You Spell Trouble
by InksandPapers
Summary: Santana Lopez was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and a black belt around her waist. Being the only daughter of top crime syndicate leader, she lived a luxurious, carefree life. Fame, fortune, flawlessness and friends—Santana had it all, and she was everything Quinn Fabray swore never to love. A/U Badass Quinntana. Pezberry friendship. Changed from T to M.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Santana Lopez was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and a black belt around her waist. Being the only daughter of top crime syndicate leader, she lived a luxurious, carefree life. Fame, fortune, flawlessness and friends—Santana had it all, and she was everything Quinn Fabray swore never to love.

This is a **Glee** Quinntana fanfic with mentions of characters from **Pretty Little Liars** and **Grey's Anatomy,** written in varying first person point of view. Inspired by Dianna Agron's upcoming movie, **The Family**.

Further inspired by the following tracks: You found me by Kelly Clarkson; Set me on fire by Bella Ferrero; Breathe me by Sia; and Let her go by The Passengers.

**Disclaimer: **All characters mentioned herein belongs to their respective owners. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

**You Spell Trouble**

**Chapter I**

**Quinn Fabray**

"Tell me one thing I can enjoy in Vegas that I can't do here."

I confidently dared Kurt since I knew there was absolutely nothing Las Vegas can offer that could convince me. It was almost winter season and my interior design apprentice friend asked me to join his pre-vacation adventure in Las Vegas. I wasn't ecstatic about Sin City because first of all, I was not a fan of nightlife, parties and stuff. I'd rather walk on the shores and enjoy the beach. Secondly, if I would have a vacation, I'll do it somewhere far from home. I live in Reno, and honestly, Vegas was just our neighbor.

Kurt eyed me sharply. He stood before me and cleared his throat.

It's on.

"There are first class casinos—"

An instant "no" came out of my lips. There was no way I am spending my hard-earned money on gambling. I mean, I barely make a grand a year. My income basically goes to my rent, food and all other expenses at my apartment. If I didn't apply for a scholarship at University of Nevada, I'm done.

I rested my chin on my hand as I watched my friend contemplate on his arguments. Despite my not wanting to join his weekend escapade in Vegas, I'm still thankful that Kurt considered asking me.

After I left home, only a handful of loyal friends got my back—Tina, Kurt, Mercedes, and Blaine. They keep on insisting Louise, my sister, was on my side but I beg to differ. They're all the same for me, hiding behind my father's connections and success, like ducklings following their mother duck.

Pathetic.

**Quinn = 1; Kurt = 0**

"Wait, I know… you love opera. There's this one—"

"Whoa—stop right there. _You _love musicals, not me. You should've tried Tina or Mercedes. This could work on them."

**Quinn = 2; Kurt = 0**

"Well, the booze and the party are top notch, I can guarantee you that."

"No—do you even know me?" I asked in between laughs. For a supposedly fun weekend, he sure looked serious about it.

I can drink in my apartment anytime, although I couldn't find an opportunity to do so considering my busy, lone living. The second one was kind of ridiculous because Kurt knew I hate loud party music accompanied by inevitable occasional total stranger gradually grinding themselves against you. I mean, was that even considered dancing at all?

**Quinn = 3; Kurt = 0**

My _glamazon_ friend sighed and sat on the opposite side of the couch. "Fine, what about the girls you could meet?"

Girls in Vegas? I don't think that formula could work for me.

"Seriously, Kurt. It's not like I'll meet my soul mate there. I don't even think there's a decent girl in that place anymore!"

Okay, that may be a little too much, but I have a point to make. I just don't want to mingle with a drunken spoiled brat who wears diamonds in her braces and toenails. I'm a sucker for romance, and that's the least you could find in Sin City.

**Quinn = 4; Kurt = 0**

Kurt lifted his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay. I give up. If you don't want to accompany your friend in need, then it's fine with me. I'll just…"

"Awww… don't be like that…"

"No. I-it's fine, really…" He looked away in a very dramatic way. I wanted to laugh so hard, but I don't want to break the mood.

"Why don't you just invite Tina or Mercedes? I'm sure either of them will be glad to."

Well, that may not be the best idea. Tina was in New York, rehearsing something, while Mercedes… Let's just say if those two get drunk at the same time… now, that's a recipe for a disaster. Besides, Mercedes was busy helping her grandmother with their business during the weekends.

"…or you could just go somewhere else, the beach, the mountains… We can go to Hollywood if you like." I continued. It would be hard to convince him since he already made up his mind.

What was he thinking anyway?

"It's okay, Q. I know you don't want to come so, let's leave it as that."

"Hey, that's not fair. I am trying my best here. Seriously, why don't you just invite Blaine?"

Kurt and Blaine was a thing back in high school. They were inseparable. As we graduated, however, things fell apart between them. Blaine got a scholarship in Connecticut while Kurt ended up in New York. Our dearest _glamazon_ visits us every weekend. Blaine, on the other hand, calls us once a month. You get the picture.

"I…" Kurt let out a long sigh. "Forget it. I appreciate your effort, Q. I think I'll just go alone."

I maybe a hard nut to crack but I still have my soft spots. He really seemed to need a friend this time. And I think I need a break from my two jobs and advance studies I do. So, Kurt may have lost the debate but he won against me. Maybe he was right. I had a rough year, and I need to rest a bit. It may not be the kind of break that I anticipate but I figured a day or two wouldn't be that bad.

I hope I made the right decision.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

Fame. Fortune. Friends. Flawlessness. Fuck.

Name it, I have it.

Being the only daughter of Sancho Lopez, one of the country's most honorable politician and leader of the country's most notorious crime group, _La Sombra_, sure had its perks. Since his shadow hovered the whole country, I became invincible. There was absolutely nothing I want that I never get, and I can do whatever I desire without having to pay for any consequence.

Yes, I can almost always change my fate in a snap of my finger. But no, I am not a god. We were not from Mt. Olympus. It's just the looks that we have in common. I came from the darkness; fed by it, molded by it. We were descendants of the fallen angel, and oh, she's so proud of us.

While I was born with a silver spoon on my mouth, I was also born with a black belt around my waist. Maybe that's a little exaggerated, but that's close to reality. Don't let my blinding glamour fool you. Behind this full grown elegance was a warrior trained to kill.

At the age of eight, I already mastered the arts of kickboxing, Taekwondo, Muay Thai and Capoiera, among others. It was my mom's idea. She said I need to learn how to defend myself without the need for a gun, a sword, or whatever. I need to be prepared for all the evils outside our doors, and I can't afford to be caught off guard.

I became my own weapon.

But more so, she said, what makes a true fighter isn't the number of combat styles one knew, or the number of trophies one won. It's about one's heart—the will to fight for something one believes in.

I think she lost me on that part.

* * *

My day wouldn't be complete without having the need to escape my father's henchmen. Since he was elected as a politician, he became stricter than ever. I can no longer go out of the house without a bodyguard.

He wanted to protect me, they said. But I knew it was all for his reputation. As his only daughter, I appeared to be a trophy for him—something he always bragged about to his colleagues. I guess he couldn't let his trophy get stained by anything as heinous as his dark side.

Anyway, this night was no different. My birthday won't be until Monday but since the celebration my father will throw for me will be more beneficial and gratifying for him, I decided to party out this nice Friday night with my ever loyal friends.

"How're we doin' mike?" Puck asked through his wireless earpiece.

We may look like a bunch of trashed youngsters but we're actually a bunch of organized, highly advanced trashed gorgeous youngsters. Seriously. We don't call ourselves anything, but we settle for the _band_. No one actually leads the band but in case of doubt and confusion, they come to me for final decisions.

There's Rachel Berry, my acting mom, sister and girlfriend all-in-one. Kidding aside, she's my best friend… now. I mean, I used to have Britt sewed on my hips. Her fate, however, brought her somewhere else, somewhere far from us. So, it became Rachel and I. She's the organizer of the band_. _She had this amazing list of all our connections, and she has a way of bringing things, people, and everything else together.

Noah Puckerman, the dark hand of the band. When there is something to be done, he's the one to call. With his charm, he easily gets his way on almost everything, except us, his friends. He's actually my bodyguard, but he learned that I need not one. So he became my dark errand boy instead.

When it comes to technology, there was no one better than Mike Chan. With his assistant, Sugar, they were _cyberly_ invincible. They both work at an underground company that does extensive technological researches—quite useful if you'd ask me.

As for myself, well… I was the trouble maker. It was my ass which the band ought to save all the time. They were my friends, and they always got my back.

"Definitive, Puckasaurus." The tech geek Mike replied. He had access to all security cameras our manor. Right now, my dad's in Arizona. Perfect.

"Copy that." Puck smiled at us. Rachel rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"You're really doing this tonight?" She asked.

"—especially tonight," I injected. She never really joined us whenever we sneak outside. Like I said, she's the mother I never knew I had.

I wanted to celebrate tonight because it's my only opportunity. Tomorrow, some of our relatives will come to help prepare for my _party_ on Monday. I hate them, I hate that party, and I can't let them ruin the commemoration of the day I graced this world with my presence.

With my friends on their posts, Puck and I were good to go.

Las Vegas should brace itself for us.

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

Nope. It was definitely not the right decision.

Upon arriving at the Eclipse, a five star hotel and casino own by the Brawns, Kurt left me for some reason I wasn't able to catch. I think he's looking for something, someone. I don't know. I can already smell the alcohol on our way up to our rooms—drunk people around, some people making out wherever, whenever. There were girls clinging to some guy overdressed with blings and whatnot.

I wanted to leave as soon as we arrived.

That was an unlikely option though since Kurt already paid for the rooms. He wanted to be here so much that he paid for everything, even for my car's gas. Well, he could afford it. I can't. Maybe being here was a blessing in disguise. Who knows what will happen, where I'll be, or who I'll meet anyway? I'll be a total stranger to this foreign culture.

Perhaps, that's what makes Vegas the place to go. Nobody knows what you have done, nobody knows where you're from, and nobody knows who you really are. Or maybe they do, but in Sin City, it does not matter. They don't care if you just came from a murder scene as long as you've got enough dollars on hand, you'll be fine… for the time being.

After unpacking a few stuff, I decided to take a walk outside. A change of scenery might help me unwind. On my way out of the hotel, I passed by the casino. The lights were blinding and the sounds, deafening. Good thing I was never a fan of gambling.

Life was the only gamble I'll ever take.

"Hi!"

My thoughts were disturbed by this guy in suit. He had that irritating smile on his face. Maybe it was his teeth—no, it was his lips. They're a little too… pouty for a guy.

"Hi." I answered back. His smile widened at my response. God, he was so weird.

"I take it it's your first time here."

I notice he had an earpiece on his left ear. I'm not sure if I should take that as a bad sign, but since I'm in Vegas, I might as well be more open-minded. A business card poked out of his coat pocket. His tie was neatly made, and his shoes were well polished.

"Why is that?" I replied. He finally stopped smiling. I think that wasn't the response he's expecting.

"The way you look around is just… interesting."

"Interesting?"

"Yes. Your eyes practically scanned the whole area." He was right, I did. My face flushed a little. I thought I was being subtle. "You're not obvious, though. I just happen to be too observant. And you happen to be a vision."

"Oh."

A vision? I hope he's not trying to pick me up. Though he seemed to be a nice guy, I remember Tina's text message:

_**From:**__**Tina Cohen-Chang**_

_Remember these 5 things, Q: 1) always order your own drinks, 2) keep your phone open at all times, 3) when it's free, it's probably dangerous, 4) never trust a guy in suit (or any guy for that matter) and lastly, 5) never trust a girl with a beautiful face. Enjoy! xo :)_

So, I probably call this thing off. I'm not sure I'm ready to socialize anyway.

"I'm sorry for bothering you. I'm Sam Evans." He offered his hands out. I thought names were not a necessity here, but I gave out mine just to be polite.

"Quinn Fabray, and not at all. It is nice meeting you, Mr. Evans."

"Wow, I never thought I'd meet someone with such courteousness in this part of the state. Please, call me Sam. Anyway, I have to go. I guess I'll see you around, Ms. Fabray."

Well he did me a favor for bidding goodbye. "Yeah, I guess."

He finally went on his way, which was towards the crowded hall and out of my sight. I, on the other hand, went outside and started my evening walk.

After walking for around thirty minutes, and been picked up more than a couple of times, I received a message from Kurt. I guess he finally found what he was looking for. Or maybe he just remembered he's here with someone.

_**From:**__**Kurt Hummel**_

_Meet me at La Forza in an hour. Drinks on me. xo_

_**From:**__**Q Fabray**_

_So, you remember I'm still here. Kidding. ;) Where you at?_

_**From**__: __**Kurt Hummel**_

_I just met someone at a café two blocks away._

_I'll introduce you later. Excited much! :)_

_**From:**__**Q Fabray**_

_Alright. I'll see you later._

After that conversation, I suddenly felt a rush of different emotions inside me. I can hardly explain it. It was as if something's going to happen, and that I should be somewhere. I-I don't know…

Anyway, I guess I'll just meet Kurt at the bar later.

It's been an hour and yet there's no sign of Kurt Hummel anywhere. I tried texting him a few times all to no avail. The bar tender had been eyeing me since I arrived. Well, I can't blame him. An hour had passed, and all I ordered was water.

I just don't want to be wasted alone, that's all.

Just when I was feeling bored enough to leave, I received a message from Tina.

_**From: Tina Cohen-Chang**_

_Have you sinned yet? ;)_

_**From: Q Fabray**_

_Yeah, by not making one. :p_

_**From: Tina Cohen-Chang**_

_You're no fun! Seriously though, how are you? :)_

_**From: Q. Fabray**_

_Sad and sober. Kurt have yet to show his glamour to this bar. _

_Do you have any idea who he might be seeing? I haven't seen him since we came here..._

_**From: Tina Cohen-Chang**_

_No idea. You mean he's already with someone? That sneaky glam!_

Through my peripheral vision, I, finally, caught a glimpse of our _glamazon_ friend, I waved at him and upon seeing me, he waved back and walked towards my direction. I sent Tina one last message.

_**From: Q. Fabray**_

_I know… I'll catch up with you later. Kurt just arrived. xo_

_**From: Tina Cohen-Chang**_

_Okay, but I want full details later! ;) xo_

As usual, Kurt burst in like a celebrity. His fashion sense earned him quite an audience as he approached me. Everything seemed to be perfect, except for the fact that he was alone. I thought he'll introduce me to someone?

"You're late." I greeted him.

"A royalty is never late, everyone else is simply early." He winked at me. I eyed him sharply in return.

"You watch too much Princess Diaries." I sip on my glass of water.

Kurt ordered himself, and I quote, "a hard one, with a dash of class." I forgot what the bartender gave him but I was certain that he winked at him after passing his order.

"Please don't tell me that's all you're drinking."

I looked down at my glass, now empty, and turned back to him, shrugging. "I thought you're here with someone?" I tried to change the topic and he almost choked in his drink.

"I'll answer your question but you have to take this one," He waved at the bartender. "She'd love a punch."

"What? Wait, you're not getting me drunk before you spill."

He answered me with silence. That confirmed something was up. The bartender handed me a glass of punch. A smile curved on his face. He's probably thinking, _thank god this girl's finally drinking something appropriate _or _thank god I'm finally earning from her._ I mentally kicked his groin.

"It's Blaine." Kurt spoke, bringing me back to reality.

"Blaine's what?" I replied confusedly. It took me one sip of the punch before I got it. It was Blaine who he met earlier. "Oh." Was all I managed to say.

"I wanted to surprise him, that's why I was so eager to come. He didn't know I knew he'll be here, nor he knew about us spending our weekend here."

"So, he's really here. Why? And where is he? Why isn't he with you?"

I couldn't stop myself from bombarding him with questions. Blaine was my friend too, and he's been absent not from Kurt's life alone, but to all four of us.

"He's here for a convention, and…" He hesitated for a moment.

"…and?"

Kurt sighed. I saw tears on his eyes which he's been trying to hold as he looked away from me. "He's here with someone."

I knew that was going to happen someday, just not this way. No further words were needed for me to realize how my friend must be feeling. He was his first love, and we knew those things don't easily pass.

_I_ should know.

I held his free hand and squeezed it a bit. I'm not sure what to tell him. When it comes to these things, Tina was the one to talk to. I mean, I've had some experiences close to his situation but… I don't know. I just feel like I can never play the role or Dr. Love, ever.

"Well, fuck that. I'm single, and I'm in _La Forza_, so let's just enjoy what Vegas can offer." He forced a smile and raised his glass for a toast. I smiled back. I leaned closer to him and whispered, "…and the bartender has his eyes locked on you since you came in."

Kurt raised his eyebrow, smirked and mouthed "I know right."

"To Vegas!" He cheered.

"To Vegas!"

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

We've got only one destination tonight, _La Forza del Destino_—my favorite bar in Vegas. What an odd name, I know. You'll have to ask Aria Montgomery about that one. She's Puck's cousin and the owner of the bar. We've met twice before and if I remember correctly, we made out on each occasion. Tonight, they're throwing a party for me.

As soon as we arrived at the bar, we were escorted to the VIP lounge. On our way there, people were waving at us, greeting me with their smiles, varying from shy and sweet to flirty and dirty. It's no news that I'm famous. I was destined to be one.

Damn, I love being me.

I shot a few winks here and there not to disappoint my dearest fans and admirers. Puck was so lucky to walk beside me. Slowly, people started to swarm us. Someone even tried to take a picture of me. Unfortunately for him, Puck was quick enough to stop him from committing what could probably lead to my getting caught. He took his camera and pushed him away from the crowd

While Puck decided to take a walk outside with the paparazzi, I hurried towards the lounge. I can't be left alone with these ladies around…

Anyway, a few moments later, the DJ announced Aria's presence. I know I am dazzling, but Puck's cousin was hot as well. I wouldn't be surprised if we end up having our third make out session tonight. She waved at the crowd before she joined me.

"Hello, gorgeous." She kissed me on my cheek, a few seconds longer than the usual. Her smell was sort of nostalgic. It reminds of the first night I saw her in this very place. Damn, I was turned on that easy. That's what happens when I hang out with momma Rachel. I became celibate for quite a long time. And you know what happens when you keep a hungry tiger in a cage for too long…

As a token of appreciation, and for my own gratification, I greeted her back by aiming for her luscious lips. I heard her moan so I decided to make it a little longer than I intended to. I felt her hands on my head, pulling me closer. She licked my lower lip and bit it. That earned a moan from me. I pushed my tongue inside her mouth to get back, causing her to moan even more. We started with her leaning over me, and she ended up sitting on my lap. My hand trailed her back, down to her ass and squeezed it.

I was ready to call the night off for the party and have Aria to myself when Puck came in to intervene.

"Whoa! Easy there, tigress." He said, followed by a huge grin.

Startled, Aria jumped off me and sat beside me instead. We both shot him a piercing look. I just hate this guy sometimes.

"And here, I thought this is my party." I said sarcastically.

"What? You want me to leave?" He answered. I wanted to say yes, he should leave the two of us alone but his cousin spoke before I could respond.

"Fuck you."

"Oh, no. I'd rather not." He winked at me. I rolled my eyes in disgust.

"You're hopeless, Noah." His cousin said. She waved to one of the waitresses and asked for our usual poisons.

"Whatever. You love me."

It was true. Despite his disgusting habits, Puck has a special place in our hearts—Rachel and I. He's the brother we both never had. As for Aria and I… no, we're not an item. Besides, I don't do commitments, relationships, and feelings. They just make life complicated and miserable.

"How's the business going, sis?"

"I think you could see for yourself." Aria proudly said. It was true. I can't remember being here and not seeing a jam-packed bar. She had a point. It was really a successful one. Puck laughed and resumed consuming his booze. A true Puckerman, however, wouldn't really enjoy himself unless he found someone to warm him up.

"The dance floor's calling me. Wanna come?" He asked us both. Since Aria excused herself, I followed Puck. As soon as I entered the dance floor, a couple of red heads joined me.

I wanted to have fun that night, to get wasted and to get my macks on. It sucked to live in a mansion, be famous and not enjoy nightlife. I used to be free to do whatever I want, whenever I want, wherever I want, with whoever I want to do it with. I miss having fun, living the day to the fullest like it's my last. I miss everything there was before my dad became a politician and decided to cleanse me of all my vices which I called happiness.

That was not me rebelling. I was just trying to be happy again.

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

Halfway through my punch came these two people who were treated like celebrities. Kurt turned his head to look at the fuss. I, on the other hand, simply ignored them. I was not a fan of those celebrities. I learned to loathe them since…

"Who's that?" Kurt shouted as the crowd grew louder. That brought me back to my senses.

"We prefer to call them, the _main event_." Bob, the bartender, answered him. He was looking at the same direction as he wiped one of the glasses.

"Like performers?" I asked blatantly. I wasn't really interested but that _main event_ thing was a little curious to be honest.

Bob looked around before he leaned closer to us. "If you don't know, don't ask; if you do, don't tell." I raised an eyebrow. Wow, they really seemed important. Even the military abolished that _don't ask, don't tell_ thing. Not unless they're sort of mafias, or yakuza.

Why did I find that funny?

"Is this some magical pub? Are we in Diagon Alley?" I laughed at my own words. I was almost done with my punch, and yeah, I'm tipsy enough to make such jokes out loud. "…that's not, _you-know-who_, right?" I laughed again. The bartender simply shook his head and walked off. Yup, he haven't read nor seen Harry Potter.

I was too amused by myself that I failed to notice the ruckus behind me. Apparently, some paparazzi managed to sneak in and tried to take a picture of the _main event_. I guess that scene was normal in this place. Some people ignored them too.

Kurt kept tapping his hand against the table. He had this serious face on.

"…where… when…" He murmured to himself.

"Kurt!" I patted his shoulder which made him look at me.

"What?" He responded, Irritated by my distraction. I simply smiled at him.

"Why so Sirius_?_" I sang in the tune of Raise Your Glass as I raised my glass to him. Damn, I love that song, only if it's with the Harry Potter lyrics. Yeah, I'm such a Potterhead. I chuckled, not really interested in what he had to say.

"I think I know them…" He said. I glanced at him and turned back at my punch. Bottom's up! "…I just can't remember that well…" He continued. He dismissed the idea and went back to drinking.

Maybe the party indeed starts at twelve. I was already a little dizzy by that time everyone was just starting to party. I guess they were waiting for the _main event, _whoever that was. I don't care.

Kurt was obviously enjoying himself as he laughed at the bartender. I was happy for him because that's exactly what he needed—to forget why we were here in the first place. As for myself, I ran out of booze. I'm dizzy and I have no plans of consuming more alcohol that I could hold. Yeah, I'm a lightweight when it comes to this. I was just not used to having this kind of fun.

That's when sadness crashed in. Fun for me was lying on the grass, or under a tree, or walking on the shore, or staring at the wide dark sky, while holding her hand, softly against your own, being able to touch her face, look into her eyes and not see yourself staring back at you, rather her soul, her whole being offered to you, making you fly and reach beyond the sky with your feet anchored to the ground.

I'm a sucker for romance; hopeless. I wish I could go back in time and feel that again. I wish I spoke my heart out when I still could. Maybe I won't be here by then. I'll be having my kind of happy.

I watched the people pour their hearts out on the dance floor. I wonder if they were really enjoying themselves. Perhaps, that was right. Being around with people you barely knew you, not caring about your past, and just living the moment, could be delightful.

My brief soliloquy was interrupted by the DJ's announcement, broadcasting the arrival of the bar's owner, Aria Montgomery. I must admit, she's gorgeous. Everyone in the bar seemed to think so as they cheered on her, whistling, clapping their boobs—hands together. I hate alcohol.

And then I saw a goddess on the other side of the room.

Sitting on the lounge alone, watching everyone else, pretty much exactly what I do. A simple tank top and jeans gave her body justice. I never knew that was possible until I saw her. It's a shame that I was too far to see her face, but I bet the gods and goddesses must've envy her. I mean, I feel it.

I stared and noticed how familiar she was indeed. I think I could finally understand Kurt. She does look familiar, only that I can't quite put my finger when or where I saw her. From where I was sitting, her figure, it all points to… Oh, no. She looked like someone I know—_knew_.

That's when the carnival of emotions returned. I could feel it in my stomach, in my hands, in my bones. I wanted to stand, to run fast, to hit someone with my fist, to bawl my eyes out, to hide. Everything I thought I forgot came rushing back; the memories, the feelings.

I now officially hate this goddess before my eyes.

"…and she's gay." Kurt whispered to my ear, looking at the goddess—girl's direction. I followed his gaze and saw her making out with Aria. My heart skipped a beat and my mouth went dry. I turned away before I say or do something stupid.

"I get it now! I knew why she looked so familiar." Kurt sipped on his third glass of whatever he's been having. I shot him a piercing look, hoping he would get the message. "She looked like Em! Do you remember? _Emily of the fields_?"

Of course, I remember. How can I forget? She's my every first. Kurt knew about that, but I guess he's not sober enough to recall how I literally buried everything that reminds me of her.

"The skin tone, the hair, shape of the face—I could even mistake them for twins!" He chuckled. Damn, I wanted to punch him square in the face to hush him up. I suddenly had the urge to drink more.

I asked Bob for tequila, and that's when I got Kurt's attention.

Finally.

After I drank it straight, I bid goodbye to my friend and headed for the exit, careful not to catch a glimpse of Emily's gorgeous _doppleganger_.

"Hey, drive safely, okay?" He said.

I nodded just to assure him that I won't do anything stupid.

_Stupid_.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

The dance floor somehow felt like home. Everyone wanted to dance with me, and I didn't mind. I just let myself feel the rhythm and be free. I felt the alcohol kicked in as I felt a little lightheaded. I hanged on to someone, still dancing. My eyes roamed around as my body twirled to the music.

And there I saw an angel. The bar maybe a little crowded, but she was glowing. I can't see her well because of all the movements, and the booze I drank. Still, I felt lighting strike my heart. There's something about her that I just couldn't explain. I unknowingly held my breath as I stare at her from afar. I can't explain the marvels happening inside my stomach. The world hushed, and my body went numb.

"What's wrong, babe?" A tall guy asked me, disturbing my thoughts. Another guy with beard stood beside him. Apparently, I ended up dancing with them without me knowing. They grinned as he tried to grind himself against me.

My reflexes wanted to kick him but I resorted to pushing him away. "Go away, perv."

"Oh, come on. We're just having fun here, aren't we?" He pulled me closer to him, and that's when I snapped.

"I said go away!" I kicked him in the groin, and as he lowered himself to attend to his aching balls, I smashed his head against my knee. I didn't have a black belt for no reason.

The guy groaned loud enough for everyone to see. He lay on the floor, twitching with his nose bleeding. The other guy was so shocked that it took a couple of seconds before he finally reached down to his friend's aid. Everyone else had their mouths open, just surprised as the guy was.

I looked back to where the angel was but she's already gone. I tried to look for her everywhere my eyes can reach all to no avail. The angel flew away, leaving me stranded alone in the middle of the bloody dance floor.

"You okay?" Aria pulled me off the dance floor to my rescue. She brought me to her office. I saw Puck covered for me back where I left. "I'm sorry. I should've cleared the bar before you came in." She said. I saw regret in her eyes. Sometimes, I hate impressions I make to some people. I'm not totally a bad person, just evil.

"Don't be ridiculous. I won't let you do that. What's the fun if it's just us?"

Wait, that was wrong. Of course it could still be fun even if there's just the two of us. We rarely see each other, and when we do, I always wanted to tear her clothes off. I know she feels the same by the way she looked at me.

"Yeah." She replied indifferently. "I'll excuse myself. I'll just check on the guys downstairs." With no further words, she left. I guess I offended her. And I just screwed off my chance to get laid tonight.

…or morning. It was half just past two and my night's already messed up. I needed a drink, so I took a black label whiskey in one of Aria's alcohol safe.

Part of me wished I listened to Rachel, stayed at home and watched Mean Girls over and over—that made me laugh. Who am I kidding? I'd rather have this fun than die of boredom in that mansion. I just wish Rachel was here. I could imagine the look on her face if she ever witnessed what I did on the dance floor.

Amused, I smiled to myself.

As if she had a radar to everything I do, I received a call from Rachel. She'll probably scream at me for using my skills for my own safety.

"S." I answered.

"_Santana! Thank god, you picked up. Where's Puck? I've been calling both of you for five minutes now!" _

Just like a mother. "He's…" I peeked on the window to look for Puck downstairs and saw him just where I left. "…busy."

"_Busy? That's not an excuse and you know that! If I'm there you are both dead…broccolis!"_

"Berry, relax. Everything's fine here. Why did you call anyway? It's almost 3 in the morning." I brought that up because I knew even if we're out partying at night, Rachel would at least take a short nap between 2 to 4 am.

"_Everything is NOT fine! I received a call from Spence, Britt's partner, remember?"_

Right. In CIA, they work by twos, or most of them at least. Brittany got partnered to a geek named Spencer Hastings. She graduated as top student from Harvard law, blah blah blah. I don't really care.

"What about her? Why is she calling you?"

"_Shut the attitude. We should be thankful that she called in Britt's absence."_

"Will you drop the bomb already? What's this all about? You're ruining my party!" I yelled as I ran out of patience. And because hearing about Brittany or that Spencer pissed me off too.

"_Your dad, he's on his way home."_

Now that's definitely a bomb.

"_Here's the plan: you get back here as fast as you can. Your dad's plane will land in Long Beach airport at exactly 0500s. That'll give you at least two and a half hours to drive back in here. Take alternative routes. I heard that Schue will lead a decoy coming from Zamperini._

_The previous plan will stick, you're here with me. That will buy us around thirty minutes more. Got it?"_

"Loud and clear."

"_Good. We'll take care of the traffic lights, and patrol cars in your way."_

"Okay."

That was it. Although my party was cut short, this rush could make up for it. I've been anticipating this kind of night for a while now. I'll be able to utilize my Ferrari's full potential without any doubt of getting caught.

"_San?" _I heard Rachel's voice. I thought I hanged up already.

"Yeah?"

"_Come home safe." _

And the line went dead.

If I didn't know better, I'd say Berry was in love with me. I do love her… like a sister, a mom, a dad—she's like my whole family put together, only better.

Time was of the essence, so I headed downstairs to get Puck and go home. Things, however, can get worse and they did. From the window, I saw policemen enter the bar. They were approaching the guy I hit earlier. He looked like a child, whining about his lost—or cracked—candy. He must've called them in. I knew there was something off about that guy. He looked too proud of himself. Well, he messed with the wrong person. Puck was with them, Aria by his side. I was pretty messed up too.

I needed to get out of there fast, and the cops cannot absolutely see me or I might as well call my dad and say, "Hey! I'm having a party here in Las Vegas. I won't be home until 7:00 am tomorrow." Damn it.

I checked my watch, 3:05 am.

_Hijo de pu—_of course! There's another way I could get out this mess.

I just hope it'll work.

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

It was freezing outside. I wanted to go back and have some more alcohol to warm me up, but then I remember the reason why I left.

Yes, I'd rather leave.

I round up the bar and found my car parked nearly at the back. Well, the front was jam packed with either luxury cars or race cars. I've got a second hand Ford Explorer, a gift I bought myself not a year ago, and I don't think she mind taking the road less travelled, more so the parking lot less used.

The streets maybe almost empty, but the lights that bring Las Vegas to life were all alive, flickering bright_. New York must be envious, I bet_

As I entered my car, my phone rang. It was Tina.

"Hey, T."

"_You're awake! I was worried you might already be asleep, or busy…" _I heard her laugh on the other line. She was in New York for her rehearsals.

"I hate to disappoint you but…"

"_You haven't got yourself a nice pair of boobies? Oh, come on, Quinnie. Grow a pair!"_

"For the record, my boobs are fine. I just didn't feel like…"

"_What, hooking up? Did you even talk to anyone?"_

"Well…"

She had a point. I didn't even try to talk to anyone, and when someone tried to do the same to me, I kept my walls up, with lions guarding the front gate, and dragons looming above the walls. Does that make me a horrible person? It's not my fault I lost interest in mingling with people. I was never a social one, so no one can use that against me.

"_I'll take that as a no. Oh, well, you still have until tomorrow. Clock is ticking, Q!"_

"I'm not desperate to get laid, T. I just came to accompany Kurt…" I was interrupted by a police car passing by. "…that's all."

"_Yeah, keep telling yourself that. How's Kurt anyway? What happened? Details, Q."_

"Aren't you supposed to go on your rehearsal today?"

"_It's too early for that. I have until seven, so you better spill, and do it quick."_

Blaine wasn't really my story to tell, so I just briefed Tina about him, his convention, and his relationship. It drove her mad that he managed to totally disregard us, his friends, who lives a couple of hours away from where he stayed. I also told her about the girl who looked like my ex, Emily. She laughed at first, but consoled me in the end. She said that might be a sign for something, she just didn't specify what it was.

Maybe that's for her to know and for me to find out.

Or perhaps we're both clueless.

Just when I was about to start the car, the front passenger door opened and a hooded man entered my car. I was ready to take my taser gun under my seat when the man took off his—err, her hood and unzipped her jacket.

"Damn weather." She whispered.

My heart fell into the depths of the world upon realizing who it was. Everything stopped; those lights flickering, sounds ringing, my breathing, my heart's beating. A nostalgic scent burned my nose, scrapping old wounds back to life, reviving my bleeding heart, hunting my memory.

"Do you know how to drive?" She asked sarcastically.

There at the passenger seat, I saw Emily, fixing herself like what she always does. She had that stupidly beautiful smile on; her face glows in the midst of darkness that was my car. A lot of things rumbled in my mind. I wanted to ask her so many questions, but I can't make a sentence of two. Nothing made any sense.

She shouldn't be here. She's not supposed to be sitting here with me, smiling like nothing was wrong because everything was wrong. Since the day she left, nothing felt right again, ever. It's been years and I'm still stuck on the same ground where I buried everything that reminded me of her. I promised myself that I would move on; tomorrow, the next day, the day after that, one day, eventually.

That day never came, however. Although I kept on telling myself that I already made it, that I'm finally free from everything that was Emily, something will come up; tearing down all progress I made, bring me back into square one.

She cleared her throat to remind me of her presence. I snapped back into reality and felt hatred rush through my veins.

"Get out." I ordered.

I breathed in and kept my eyes away from her. It's painful to see her right where I hoped she would stay—beside me. I felt my hands shake as I held on the steering wheel. I held the tears in my eyes. I may not have fully changed but I've grown. I'm stronger now.

I was prepared to shoo her off my car, but next thing I knew, her soft lips were on mine. I felt her breathe on my skin, and it was burning me. I wanted to resist but my body betrayed me. Her tongue was stroking my lower lip, and I moaned. _God, why am so I weak?_ I finally closed my eyes and… let go.

The kiss was slow and it turned somewhat passionate. Something inside me burned. The riot inside my stomach was gone, the numbness, the pain, the memory, everything. For the first time in my life, one kiss made me feel complete and safe… again.

She pulled me in closer, and I did the same. My hands got tangled in her hair. More tears streamed down my face. I wish time would stop. I wish I could stay in her arms forever.

We shared a festival of lights. Fireworks would be jealous. It was magical beyond belief. Nothing could ever compare to that feeling.

After I felt her lips part from mine, I opened my eyes, thinking why we stop. And then I saw a totally different person right before my very eyes. I saw this child trapped inside the darkness, waiting to be found, wanting to be loved. Astonishment, excitement, craving—it was all written in her face. I felt her sadness, her emptiness, her wishes, her desires.

That's when I realized how her touch was different, her scent was new, and her taste...

It was definitely not Emily.

It wasn't her at all.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

When you've got so little time, you can either rush, or improvise.

I chose the latter.

While the commotion continued inside the bar, I took the emergency exit in Aria's office and headed down to the parking lot. Unfortunately, there were policemen in the front where my Ferrari was fitfully parked. _Tough luck_.

Taking a cab was not an option, and running away was a suicide mission. I need to get away with my face hidden or I'm dead meat to my father.

Although my father was a politician, he was a gangster first. I maybe his only child, but no one—and I mean absolutely no one—was exempted from following his rules. You break one, you're dead by dawn. Well, while he might not really kill me, I'm still frightened by whatever he might do that could almost equate from dying.

No, shit, I won't.

By some stroke of luck, I saw an old SUV parked at the back. I was prepared to "borrow" it from the dirty old man who owned it at all costs, but I was mistaken. I hid behind the post and peeked at who was inside. I froze.

It was the angel from the bar. I looked closely, thinking that I might be hallucinating from all the booze I drank earlier. It was really her, smiling to herself while she's probably texting someone. I wish I could hear her voice.

Why not?

I scanned the area to make sure it was clear. It was a little tough though because she parked facing the wall. I mean, who does that? Anyway, I pushed my luck, hoping she's busy enough not to notice me. I put on my hood. I went through the back and calmly headed for the passenger seat.

As I sat inside, I took off Puck's jacket.

"Damn weather." I murmured.

One reason why I hate wearing guy's clothes? The smell. I thought we already taught Puck proper hygiene. _That bastard_. I fixed myself, aware that my angel—the girl, I mean—was looking at me by that time, most likely surprised and stunned by my glamour. I couldn't help but smile at the thought.

I gave her a few more seconds before I checked on the side mirror. The cops could round up the bar, for all I know. She took forever, though, so I decided to speak up.

"Do you know how to drive?" I asked. Impatience was finally reaching my guts.

She sat still, speechless. Sometimes I regret how gorgeous I am. I mean, I need to get away from here but this girl sure was too fascinated to comprehend. I turned away from her, waiting. It was only then when I noticed the scent inside. It smelled like the beach, reminding me of the waves, the calmness. It almost felt like… home.

Through my peripheral vision, I noticed how truly stunning she was as well. Her golden locks accented her beautiful face. Her smile was gone, and I felt that I missed something truly amazing.

A sudden pain pinched my chest. Will I regret boarding this car? Will I regret coming to this bar? Will I regret going out this night? I looked outside, wanting to take a breather. But as I glanced on the side mirror, I saw two cops with their flash lights on. One was walking towards our direction.

Panic ran through my veins. But in times like this, I learned how to stay calm and think. The girl's voice didn't help though.

"Get out." She said. Weird, I thought I saw tears in her eyes.

I smiled. I don't know what's going through her mind then, nor do I have any idea what her issues were, but I really,_ really_, need to get out of this mess.

So, I kissed her.

I was confident enough to think that no one in their right minds would say no to one Santana Lopez. Upon touching her lips, however, I felt everything backfired to me. It was electrifying, frying me to my very core. I closed my eyes and the world hushed. Her breathing was the only thing I could hear, the beating of her heart close to mine.

I fell right through the rabbit hole, swirling down to the depths of the world. But I didn't care. I pulled her closer, wanting more. Her tongue touched mine and I moaned. Fuck, the girl was good.

I was ready to die at that moment.

I said _die_, not get caught. A voice outside the car brought me back up to earth.

"Hey, miss." One of the cops said. "This is, uh, uh…"

I wanted to end him for looking, but I'd rather stay where I was.

"Let them be, Gus." Another one spoke. He sounded older than the other.

"But we're…" The first one hesitated.

_Go away._

"What's wrong with two girls having some fun? Give them some space." The older guy chuckled. "…and welcome to Las Vegas, boy."

Damn, that was close.

When I was sure they were no longer there, I went back to wonderland. The kiss turned wet, it made me… no, the kiss wasn't wet. It was tears. The girl was crying. I ended it. I opened my eyes and I indeed saw tears.

Was I an awful kisser?

Or was it tears of joy?

What have I done wrong?

That's when she finally opened her eyes—_those fucking gorgeous eyes. _Heaven was staring at me, that's what it felt like. I got lost in those hazel swirls. My heart pounded hard inside my chest. There something in her eyes I can't quite comprehend though. They were talking to me in some language I couldn't understand.

Strange, I actually wanted to understand.

But she turned away from me. She took a deep breath and wiped her tears.

"I-I'm sorry." She softly said, and I melted. Guilt embraced my bones, haunting my every nerve.

_That feeling_…

It was awfully wonderful, and mysterious.

"I need a ride." What? Did I just say that? Damn, I'm so stupid sometimes. I thought she was finally going to pull that taser gun under her seat. I thought she was going to call the cops, dial 911 or something.

"Okay," was all she said.

And we went on our way.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N:** My first story that falls under the action genre.

I know you guys are thinking "oh, there she goes again, writing another story that will definitely not end." You're probably right, or not. No one can say for certain. Let me say this though: I already have this story mapped out of my head and put most of it into writing.

I hate to disappoint but I know I have been a very disappointing writer. This is my peace offering to you guys.

- InksandPapers


	2. Chapter 2

This is a **Glee** Quinntana fanfic with mentions of characters from **Pretty Little Liars** and **Grey's Anatomy**, written in varying first person point of view. Inspired by Dianna Agron's upcoming movie, **The Family**.

******Disclaimer: **All characters mentioned herein belongs to their respective owners. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

**You Spell trouble**

**Chapter II**

**Quinn Fabray**

"You have two choices, Ms. Fabray."

The guy with awfully curly hair sat comfortably sat on his chair. "We can take this to the court, our pieces of evidence against… your word," He clasped his hands together as he leaned comfortably on his chair. "…or you can simply take our deal: we won't push any charges against you, in exchange, once you set foot outside the manor, you are never to return to California; you are to avoid miss Santana Lopez and her friends at all cost; and lastly, you will never speak of the incident and of this deal to anyone, as if it never happened."

He leaned in to sip on his glass of scotch. "Oh, and it comes with some cash, for whatever." He winked at me. I rolled my eyes as I sat quietly before him. Two armed guys stood behind me. I never felt so angry in my entire life.

"It shouldn't be that hard, you know, considering the status of your… life."

I clenched my hands hard. I felt myself shook in rage. The man was so full of himself. He reminded me of my father, and my brother Lucas, taking advantages of their influence and their power. They thought they could get away from everything they do. Their powers made them think they were invincible, and they were at some point.

People like them made death penalty so justifiable.

"I'll let you think about it. You'll have one hour."

"I don't need an hour! I'm not taking your deal."

"My, my. Are you sure about that? You can't even afford to go to college. You can barely pay for your rent." He said. God, I want to smash his face against his neatly painted wall.

He may be right, I don't have much. I may have to take two jobs to support myself; I may have to wait for a scholarship so I could study; I may have to bear living in a small apartment, or driving an old rusty car; I may not have much but, I do have more. I have my dear friends who would stick with me even if it's not always sunshine and rainbows, who would dare fight with me, even if all we have are our bare hands, and each other.

"Oh, by the way, as the evidence suggests, Mr. Hummel will also be charged as an accomplice to the crime." He looked at me the way Joker would when he had the upper hand against Batman. "It's not just your life on the line, Ms. Fabray."

He got me. He totally got me. How dare they bring in Kurt in this? All he wanted was to be with Blaine.

"One hour." He motioned to his bodyguards. "Take her," One of the guys picked me up by my arm.

"Get off me!" I yelled at him.

"Take her nicely, you idiots!" He ordered to his henchmen. "Have Ms. Pillsbury attend to her." He continued.

And I was finally out of his filthy room.

We walked down the corridor towards another room. The place was definitely a mansion. They were some wealthy bastards. Everywhere I looked, however, I saw the same girl who brought me into this situation

Santana Lopez.

Even just thinking of her name made me want to puke. I felt nothing but pure hatred towards that girl. She better not show herself to me or… I don't know what I might do.

From the bottom of my very heart, I greatly and sincerely loathe you, Santana Lopez.

I curse the day that we met.

* * *

_**Twelve Hours Earlier**_

**Santana Lopez**

"So, where should I drop you off?" She asked. I didn't respond, not because I was already in character, playing a poor Vegas visitor, rather I was still flabbergasted by her beauty. Really, it was that hard to move on.

I think I might regret this.

"What… you don't have a place to stay?" She glanced at me.

That's when I started acting. I slightly shook my head as I looked outside the window. She hit the brakes as the traffic lights turned red. Silence was deafening. Perhaps, I was no longer used to being in a quiet place, especially while being with someone.

Although I was gifted with reading people, the girl was exceptionally puzzling to me. Her emotions were all extreme, each toppling the other, and none of those actually made any sense. I mean, it was like painting and using all the colors in one stroke. You get black. Darkness. I couldn't just read her. The number of emotions she had at the same time resulted to nothing but indifference.

There was one thing I was certain of though—she had no idea who I was; that not until today, she had yet to see my face, or know my name.

"You can stay in my hotel room and just leave in the morning." She said.

"…thanks." I whispered.

We arrived at her hotel room almost four in the morning. I wasn't tired, perhaps because I still had a lot of things to do. She, on the other hand, appeared exhausted.

"You want anything?" She asked as she placed her things down on the bedside table.

I shook my head in response.

I couldn't help but notice her perfectly round ass as she passed me by. My eyes followed her towards the small kitchen. Someone had to remind why I was in her hotel room or I might just lose it. Damn, things were starting to backfire to me.

I needed to shake the fantasies off my mind in order to focus so I went on the balcony to take a breather.

"This is a nice place." I said, not sure if she heard me. Whatever. I just wanted to take my eyes off of her for a second.

I went back inside. She was digging through her stuff as I sat on one of the couches. One bag. It seemed that she wasn't sharing the room with anyone. I wondered if she was in Las Vegas with anyone… oh, right! She was with someone, her gay friend, I almost forgot. Does that mean that she's not seeing anyone? For one gorgeous girl that's definitely impossible.

…or maybe not. _I_ wasn't seeing anyone either. But at least I was having fun.

"Would you like to take a shower?"

With you? Hell yeah.

Wait, did I say that out loud? Fuck. All the frustrations were taking their toll on me. I was too occupied to notice her standing in front of me.

"So, do you?" She asked again.

"Yes." What did I just say? I can't afford to waste any time now. Damn it. The girl handed me a white v-neck shirt and a boxer. I instantly imagine her in them; her smooth fair skin, those fucking long legs…

"You can have them." She said. I blinked a couple of times before I managed to think of words to say.

"I… I'm sorry for intruding."

She shrugged. Her facial expression hadn't change a bit. "That one's the bathroom." She said, pointing to the door to my left.

Hello, cold shower.

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

If I wasn't kind enough, I would've asked the girl to leave my car. That was, in fact, one question that I had been asking myself even after we arrived in my hotel room.

Why the hell did I not ask her to get out of my car?

Another thing was…

Why the hell did I brought her to my room?

I sure was stupid sometimes, but today, I reached my stupidest. I guess I just no longer care about anything. I was too worn out to think or to feel. I thought helping someone wouldn't be so bad, or if it would be… I don't know. I just want the day to end, to leave this place, to go back to my safe haven.

She'd been watching me closely, that girl. I bet I was getting creepier by the minute because she sure was. Well, I wouldn't be surprised, as I felt more like a dead walking. I definitely was.

"This is a nice place." She said. Something about her was off. But I didn't pay any attention. Every time I see her, I see Emily. It's impossible for me not to. So, I fought with my best to be indifferent. I had to. Perhaps, I needed a shower to wash away anything and everything in my head even just for a while.

"Do you want to take a shower?" I asked her just to be polite. By that time, I felt something under her gaze. It was different. It made me feel uneasy and proud at the same time. Anyway, she said she wanted to take a shower so I let her in first. I handed her my favorite shirt and boxers which she gladly took.

_I handed her my favorite shirt and boxers._

Those were my favorite pair of clothes! Why the fuck did I do that?! I guess my mind was as foggy as my emotions were. I told you, stupid.

It was near dawn by the time she finished. I took my turn and enjoyed my break from the world.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

I think I might have fallen asleep sometime while taking a shower, or maybe time just flew by. I humbly came out of the bathroom and the girl came in without a word. That was my opportunity to push the plan.

As soon as I heard her turn the shower on, I dialed Aria's number. After a few rings, she answered it.

"_Montgomery_."

"It's S. I need to speak with the dinosaur." I was referring to Puck, also known as Puckasaurous, hence, the dinosaur. I heard her call Puck on the other line.

"_Speaking_."

"It's code play at Eclipse, 319." I said.

In their desire to save my ass, the band invented codes and ciphers to be used whenever we're not using our own phones. Code play, for instance, meant that we were to set-up a scenario that caused my disappearance. It varies from a simple speaking at a convention, volunteer at an orphanage to kidnapping and abduction. We're actually quite creative.

"_Who's the protagonist_?" He asked, referring to who I was going to set-up.

"Fair-haired lady picturesque, ask Bob."

"_Okay. Curtain's up in an hour_." We both hang up.

I scanned the whole room while thinking of all the things I needed to arrange. I notice her glass of water by the counter. I took the benzodiazepines I hid on my bra and put some on the glass. For the record, I did not plan to hurt the girl in anyway. I want to sedate her, that's all.

Her luggage was nothing more than one bag. On its tag lies her name, finally.

_Quinn Fabray._

It doesn't ring any bell, but my heart leaped. That could be the name I may never forget.

Half an hour had passed before the girl—Quinn—came out of the bathroom. I watched her through peripheral vision. She was wearing the same set of clothes as mine, only she went for a tank and not a shirt. She walked out like a ramp model owning the cat walk, slowly, and then all at once.

I stood at the doorway to the balcony, pretending not to care at her attractiveness. And just as I predicted, she headed towards the counter.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks." There, I said it again.

I heard her moved a stool chair. She cleared her throat. "I-I'm sorry for acting like a douche." There was a pause. "You just… remind me of someone."

The change in her mood was evident. I listened closely. She was opening up. Her face showed signs of regret, pain and sadness. I could finally read her.

Finally.

I changed position, faced her with my back pressed against the door frame.

"No, I should be the one to apologize." I glanced at her face. I might've seen a tear. Damn. "My behavior was inappropriate." She smiled a bit and drank the water.

_She drank the water._

Oh, no, no, no. Shit! We're just having a conversation! I wanted to talk to her more but… Ugh!

"Can't help it, huh?" She chuckled. Her smile was melting my heart. What did she mean by that anyway? Was she proud of herself? Ugh. I wished we could talk more…

Fuck, why does it have to be her?

"I'm…" She cleared her throat. "I'm Quinn Fab… Fabray." She was falling asleep. I ran to her aide, but… "I'm sorry, I'm… I'm…" Her voice trailed off.

That was it.

She fell asleep.

I haven't regretted anything in my life until that moment.

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

Strange voices.

I kept hearing them inside my head. I tried to open my eyes slowly but the light was blinding so I just kept it shut for a while. I heard them again, those voices. They were talking like we were in the same room which was impossible because…

Where was I anyway?

It felt strange. The couch was just uncomfortable. No, it was a chair. A chair? Why would I even sleep in a chair?

I finally opened my eyes to end my confusion.

"Ah! Finally, you're awake!" Someone… a guy exclaimed.

I looked around and I was no longer inside my hotel room. I thought I was dreaming, that I time traveled centuries back. The room's architectural design was a complete replica of what a Victorian house was. It was exquisitely beautiful.

"Look up front, Barbie, and sit still." A guy nudged me on my back. Why were there too many guys?

Where am I?

I obliged and looked at what's in front of me. There was a guy wearing a suit. He had this weird looking, spongebob kind of curly hair. His clef chin slit his chin in two. He was looking back at me.

"Ms. Quinn Fabray, I'm glad you now finally join us, physically and mentally." He clasped his hands together. I crossed my eyebrows in confusion.

"Who are you? Where am I?" I started to panic. I sat straight, looking behind me. There were two armed guys standing. "What the..."

Just when I stood up, one of the guys hurried to hold me down. Instinctively, I clenched my fist and hit him square in the face, breaking his nose.

Well, that felt good.

The other guy, mad looking one, was about to hit me back if it wasn't for that guy in suit. "Whoa, settle down everyone. Why don't we just… calm down for a second, breathe." He made that inhale exhale motion with his hands. He was irritating as hell.

"Where am I? Who the fuck are you?!" The guy smiled.

"Sit down, Ms. Fabray, and make yourself comfortable at least."

I remained standing, not giving him the satisfaction. "Comfortable?! I don't know who you are! I don't even know where the fuck I am!" I yelled at him. His coolness was intimidating.

"Okay, if you insist." He glanced at the paper on his table before he continued. "I'll fill you in nonetheless."

He cleared his throat before he continued. "Around five in the afternoon yesterday, you were seen with Ms. Santana Lopez at Orange Grill—"

"Wait, who? Where?" I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. And who's this Santana Lopez? This doesn't feel good.

He cleared his throat. "…at Orange Grill in Las Vegas."

"Orange grill? What are you talking about?!"

"Please, let me finish." New set of guys stood beside me upon the curly haired guy's order.

"Finish?! You speak of me like I was in some kind of a—" That's when one of the guys held out a gun. I wasn't scared, but part of me was surprised upon seeing a gun.

"As I was saying, you were seen with Ms. Lopez. After which, you boarded your car, an old Ford Explorer. You offered Ms. Lopez a drink, which she gladly accepted without knowing that it was drugged, causing her to fall asleep as you drove her to your hotel room at Eclipse. The very place where you took advantage of her unconsciousness, tying her on your bed posts."

The story was astounding. My mouth was open for a good few seconds before I was able to decipher what he was actually saying.

Wait, was he accusing me of kidnapping and sexual assault?

"What?" That was everything I said. I was too shocked to say the least. "This is ridiculous." A sarcastic chuckle left my mouth. "That sounds like a perv old man's fantasy!"

"Tell me, Ms. Fabray, is it not you on the picture?"

He walked closer, ignoring what I said, and placing a picture on the table before me. It was me and that girl I brought to my apartment. We appear to be eating at a restaurant that was definitely not La Forza where I actually saw her.

"That's…"

"Is it not you?"

The picture was overwhelmingly convincing. I never had been to Orange Grill, not have I met that girl earlier in my life, but the picture told otherwise. It was almost real.

I opened my mouth, gasping for words. "I… That's my face, but… that's definitely not me in there! I wasn't there! I didn't even know the girl!"

"Careful, Ms. Fabray, don't you really know her?" That time, he handed me a close up photo of the same girl. It was her, alright. Those raven colored locks, those eyes, those lips. I looked up at him in disbelief.

"I-I saw her, at a bar, not from some restaurant! I didn't know her name!"

"But you do admit seeing Ms. Lopez and bringing her to you apartment, is that correct?"

I hesitated. Did she do that? Did she just frame me? After I treated her with kindness, that's what she did to me?

"Ms. Fabray, my question."

"Y-yes, she was in my apartment. I brought her in because she said she had nowhere—"

"Thank you. Moving on,"

"Wait! You've got to listen to me. I don't know what you're talking about, okay? You've got to believe me!" I yelled as I fight for my innocence.

A smile curved on his lips. "Don't worry. That's exactly why I am reminding you of what you did." He threw more pictures on the table. "Do you recognize this car?"

It was my SUV. The other pictures were a snapshot of my car's interior, with a few things I didn't recognize.

"Ms. Lopez' phone was found inside this car, along with the bottle which was identified to contain the benzodiazepine, a known sedative if consumed in large amounts."

Tears formed in my eyes. I thought I already hit bottom, but I was mistaken. I was just on my way down there.

"Say, is this your car?"

I didn't respond. I stared at the pictures, thinking how, why someone would do something that horrible to me—me who had nothing but my dream to live a quiet and simple life.

"Ms. Fabray?"

"Yes! That's my car! But those things inside? These pictures?" I grabbed the pictures and almost crumpled it in my hands. "These are all lies! Whoever did these, whoever gave them to you just made them all up!" let out a sarcastic chuckle once more. I threw the pictures back on the table. "Really, I can't see any reason why you picked me, of all people. I mean, I have nothing, Mr. Curls. And I sure cannot carry a girl of my same body proportions into my apartment without being obvious."

I lost it, and I finally gave in. I don't understand what those people want from me. As for the last part, that was one thing they missed.

"Oh, right." The guy clapped and went back to his own table. He sat down on his chair and read the paper again.

"Here, at approximately 5:30 in the morning, Mr. Kurt Hummel—" Blood rushed through my ears upon hearing my friend's name. "…was seen leaving Eclipse. Timeline suggests that he left right after you and Ms. Santana was settled back at your apartment. Now, if we're not mistaken, which we obviously are not, Mr. Kurt Hummel is a close friend of yours, correct?"

That was it. I didn't understand how my life turned from bad to worse. It just happened.

* * *

_**Present Time **_

"Does it hurt?" The lady, Ms. Pillsbury I assumed, asked as she pressed on my hand. She had been checking me for any bruises, wounds or whatever. I don't know. It's not like I mind either. I kept my mouth shut and ignored her.

She already cleaned the bruise on my knuckles. It honestly hurts a bit, but the feeling that I hit that guy in the face, leaving him bleeding was enough for me to forget how it hurts.

"What about here, does it hurt?" It was my arm, the one that armed guy pulled. I twitched but I didn't answer. Her red air and bulgy eyes were annoying me.

"Sweetie, I can't help you if you don't help me." She stopped and sighed. "I'm not a villain here, okay?"

That caught my attention. "Then how come you're working with them?"

"What makes you think they're the villain?" She answered me with a straight face. I want to pull her eyes out of their eye sockets then and there. What does she mean… that I was _the_ villain? Well, fuck her. Of course, she'd been lied to as well. These walls, no matter how elegant they seemed, they're rotting with lies.

"I didn't do anything! Whatever they've been telling people were all lies! I've been lied to, myself. It was a set-up! I'm a victim here! I didn't—"

"It's okay." She cut my exclamation. "You don't have to defend yourself to me. I'm not here to judge you. I'm just here to fix your wounds."

I kept my distance. "You can't fix my wounds."

I think we met at that point. Her eyes lingered on mine quite long. I felt that she understood what I meant, and she finally let it go.

"Well, okay then." She stood up and picked her first aid kit. "I'll just, leave you to your thoughts."

I was left alone inside the room. I walked to the full-sized window and glanced outside: second floor, medium security, far from main road. Escaping would be pointless. I may have to make that decision.

How did I even get there?

I just wanted to do my friend a favor. I thought I was making a favor to myself, too, since I'd be trying something new, yet I ended up here; troubled. I remembered what Tina sent me the night before we went to Vegas, _never trust a girl with a beautiful face._

Damn she was right.

I was a fool for trusting that girl. It was as if she knew I'd be weak by merely seeing her face because of…

Emily.

Why does she always have to ruin things for me? She'd done it before, and she'd done it again. She'd always lead me into trouble, and leave me bleeding, adding wounds after the other.

Maybe the world was just playing a prank on me—an immensely painful tragic grim joke. Maybe I haven't been through enough troubles that the world thinks I actually need more. That perhaps, living alone without even a cat, not earning enough for everything that I need, having your heart broken for no reason, being born to a family you loathe were not enough to teach you that life was fucking unfair.

When have I become so lucky?

I checked the clock. It was almost time. I've always believed in justice. No matter how sullied it may seem, I still have faith in them. But, would it be wise to fight back? The guy was right. Kurt was in it too. I shouldn't be making this decision by myself. Right?

"Quinn! Thank god, we finally found you!" Kurt burst in through the door. To say I was surprised was an understatement. He looked… fine—happy, in fact. He seemed to be so cheerful, which was odd and…

"Hey, girl! What are you doing here? The party's downstairs!"

…Mercedes was right behind him.

"What—how?" I asked. I could not put into words exactly how I felt.

"Well, what are _you_ doing here? We're supposed to be downstairs! I didn't know we're allowed to roam around…" It was Kurt, as he admired the interior of the room. Mercedes approached me and whispered, "He's been doing that to every room, sort of creepy if you'd ask me."

Confused, baffled, bewildered. I don't know. I couldn't quite decipher the what, whys and hows. One minute, my life was on the line, and the next, my friends came in giddy.

"H-how did you get here? And Kurt... H-how… a-are you okay?"

He raised his eyebrow at me. "Of course, why wouldn't I be? Bob may look like hardcore, but he's actually a romantic." He batted his eyelashes and smiled proudly.

"Bob? Who's Bob? And what are you two doing here? Mercedes?"

"Bob, the bartender, remember?" Kurt rolled his eyes and replied with a _duh _expression. "He drove me to the hotel in the morning. We said our goodbyes, and then followed me and invited me to this _uh-_mazing party."

Exactly what Mr. Curls said. "Party?" What the hell was going on?

"As for myself, I got a call from one Rachel Berry, inviting me to come." She said, checking her nails like it wasn't a big deal. On the contrary, it was a big deal. Every Saturday, her grandmother's assistant takes the day off which leaves Mercedes and her grandmother to work on their antique shop.

"That's just it? You refused to go to Vegas with Kurt!"

"Yeah, well someone had to look out for our business. But since I don't have any business to look out for…"

"What do you mean? Did something happen? What did they do to you?"

"Horrible things, Quinnie." She leaned in with a horrified look on her face, then chuckled. "That Berry girl? They already sent a check worth one day of our business to grandma. So, we closed for the day and took a day off." She sang the last part, diva style.

Un-fucking-believable. Just when I thought I was already having the worst day, it just gotten _worse. _I think I just lost grasp on reality. My mind was fucked to the fullest. My emotions were scrambled to the point of that they were no longer identifiable.

"You shouldn't be here, guys. This is too dangerous. We should leave, right now." I lead them to the door and exit the room. The two looked at each other confusedly and followed me.

"What's up with her?"

I wanted to tell them what happened. I wanted to tell them that I was deceived, set up, and threatened; that my life (and Kurt's) were on the line as they spoke highly of whatever was waiting for us downstairs. I wanted to tell them how fraudulent and deceitful everyone there was.

As we went downstairs, however, we were greeted by glasses of pink lemonaide handed out to us by a waiter. The mansion was magical to say the least. Everything appeared to be crafted just for this place alone. Each detail was exquisite, magnificent overall.

Out at the garden was the party my friends were talking about. We were definitely underdressed but they both didn't mind. They went on to chat with some people while I stood still in the middle of the entry way.

"You must be Quinn." A brunette girl, shorter than myself, spoke in polite tone. "I'm Rachel Berry, pleasure to make your acquaintance." She extended her hand; a sickeningly gleeful smile painted on her face.

Pleasure? Was it some kind of a joke? I could've punched her face right then and there. I was blazing in fury not more than an hour ago while some guy played with my life like it was a Rubik's cube.

"I know you have a lot of questions in mind right now, and I wish I could answer each and every one of them—"

"Where is he? That guy with a curly hair, where can I find him?" I cut her. I wanted to end everything and leave that place for good.

"Mr. Schue? I don't think that should be a matter, right now—"

"_Not a matter?_ I was held pri—"

"Please, please, keep it down." She hushed me. She looked around before she leaned in and whispered, "This isn't the place for that." She cleared her throat. "This way." She gestured to our right, towards the less crowded part of the garden.

"No." I refused.

She turned back to me, perplexed.

"You're part of this. You're one of them. Why should I trust you?"

The petite brunette held my hand and looked me in the eye. It was scary how honest her eyes were.

"…because I know you didn't do anything wrong."

The garden was huge; a couple of olympic-sized swimming pools could fit right into it. There were trees everywhere, but what caught my attention were the palm trees on the far side of the property. I could smell the ocean. I could hear the waves. God, it was eerily nostalgic.

We walked towards the unguarded part of the garden. There was a guy at the far end of it, but he left as soon as he caught a glimpse of Rachel.

"The party was actually a pre-celebration for Ms. Lopez' birthday." I didn't respond, and I didn't think she was expecting one as well. I wasn't a fan. "Those people were their relatives from all over the country."

She kept on glancing at me like she was waiting for a giddy fangirl response. Too bad, I wasn't interested. I didn't care.

"Your friends were brought in the assumption that the deal was taken."

"What?!" I turned to her, surprised. "But I haven't told them what I chose! I need to—"

"It's been an hour and a half. Your time was long up. Anyway, it's been decided that you'll take the deal no matter what. That's how things were supposed to be."

"What do you mean _that's how it's suppose to be_? So, it was just a play? A prank? What is wrong with you, people? You treat my life like it is some kind of a joke!" I could feel the heat from my face. If looks could kill, she would've disappeared a long time ago.

"Please, you've got to calm down, Quinn."

"Stop calling me Quinn!"

"Listen… it wasn't a joke. The deal _is _real. And you have accepted it."

"But I didn't! Accepting it is just the same as confessing to a crime that I didn't even do!" I yelled at her. I couldn't help it. The rage inside me returned.

"Well, what would you have chosen?" Her voice grew louder, but not enough to call it shouting. A mixture of anger and concern flashed in her eyes. My emotions were too great for me to understand her own emotions.

She was right. While I believe that I can fight… should I? Do I really stand a chance against them? The crime was perfected. Only science can prove them wrong, but even in science there's politics, and in politics... I give up. The fight was too great for one Quinn Fabray—a runaway child, a black sheep of the family, a speck in a society.

She turned away and sighed. "The point is…" She calmed down again. "…they expect you to leave California today. After which, you are forever—"

"…banned from this part of the country. I know the deal."

"But that's not it. You don't understand these people. How do you think they would know if you broke any of those rules?" Her facial expression was all concerned by then. "They'll keep an eye on you, on your friends, at home, at work, at school. Everywhere you go, there will always be eyes watching you."

"What?"

"You need to go somewhere else, somewhere far."

I laughed. "Wait, you mean I should not go home? Go and live my life somewhere else because I came across this… family?"

"You can put it that way."

"I might as well disappear!" I laughed even more. It was ridiculous. Nothing ever made sense anymore. "Okay, I get it. Where's Ashton Kutcher? Isn't this supposed to be the part where I say, _Hey, I got Punk'd!_"

"This is serious, Quinn. Please, listen to me carefully." She looked me straight in the eyes. Those horrifyingly honest eyes were back. I hate them. I hate how sincere they looked. "Take your car. It's park at the end of this garden, in front of you. Drive here," She handed me my keys and a piece of paper with an address. "That's my house. It is a must that you park at the back. There's a key behind the hanging plant at the foyer. Do not open the door for anyone but me, okay?"

I stared at her. I wasn't sure if I should trust her given that she works for the Lopezes. But why was she going to help me? Or was she really going to help? Wouldn't that be another set-up, another lie, another crime?

"I can, and I will explain everything once I get there. Trust me." She held my hand. "Promise me you'll stay there until I arrive."

I stood still. I felt her sincerity. "Quinn, you have to promise me."

"Whatever." I shrugged. I turned her back at her. I wanted to get out of this place for good. But first, I need to find Mercedes and Kurt. As I walk away, I heard the brunette spoke. I didn't think she knew I could still hear her—barely, but yes, I could.

"Santana was right," I kept walking. "You really are something."

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

"Are you okay?" Puck asked me as we drove back to Long Beach in one of my father's limousine. I rolled my eyes. "San, are you alright?"

I wasn't. The whole code play was supposed to ease my mind as I once again managed to slip away from my father's clutches for one night. I was supposed to celebrate the success of our scheme, yet my heart disagrees. I felt guilty at what we—_I _did to Quinn.

"Yeah, whatever." I spat.

Mr. Schue and Rachel were waiting for me at the mansion's entrance by the time we got there. They, together with two maids bowed their heads a bit as I came out of the car. I eyed Rachel sharply. I knew it was an SOP for them, but I already told her a million times that she should never bow to me.

I turned to our family's head of security. "Puck will have you briefed."

"Yes, young madam." He said without looking.

I walked inside without another word. Rachel caught up to me and whispered. "Your dad's waiting for you in his office."

Of course, he does. I bet he's making this huge fatherly turned head-of-mafia kind of speech as I speak. He only had time for me things like this happen. In short, I needed to make up a scenario for me to see him and to be able to talk to him without hearing, "You've got two minutes, I have a meeting in an hour" or "I got to catch a plane, do it quick".

That's my father.

I headed to my room to put on some clothes. As part of our code play, I decided to leave Quinn's hotel room in nothing but my undergarments. I still snatched her shirt and boxers though, like a pro stealing a souvenir.

I took the robe off and looked for some shirt and jeans. Rachel saw Quinn's clothes dropped on my bed.

"What's this?"

"She gave it to me." She gave me a confused look. "She gave it to me before she fell asleep, okay? It's mine now."

I put on a sweatshirt and jeans. I hate this weather.

"San, you can't keep it here. If they find it, it would be suspicious."

"What makes you think they'll find it here?" I replied. That stopped her train of thoughts. "I'll bring it to your place. I spend more time in yours than here, so it's fine."

"Let me take it—" She stretched her hands out to grab it but I hit her hand before she reached it.

"Hey! Don't touch it!" I snapped. Wow, I didn't see that coming. She stopped and looked at me with her eyebrow raised. Her eyes were telling me that she awaits my explanation. "You might ruin it." I said, pouting.

I wasn't sure why I said that. I mean, yeah, I am possessive of my stuff, and I think I consider those clothes mine and… important.

After composing myself, I hid the clothes inside one of my bedside table drawers. But before I headed for the door, I glanced at Rachel. "That girl, Quinn…" I whispered.

I looked down on the floor. I knew what they're going to do with her. That has always been the case. Normally, it would all passed by my mind by then. I wouldn't mind what they would do, how grave it would be. I didn't care. This time, however, the thought of Quinn going through what others have gone through lingered on my mind. It has been bugging me since we left the hotel room.

"…just tell her to leave Nevada, and go somewhere else." I ordered to Rachel and exited the room.

"I heard what happened."

My dad spoke as soon as I settled inside his office. He had his back turned against me as he sat on his chair. I could feel the disappointment in his voice.

What's new?

"Just say it already." I said.

He finally turned around to face me. As usual, he looked serious. "You were trained for almost all your life, yet you were tricked by no less than a girl."

I stared out of the window. I wonder how she's doing right now…

"You're a black belter, a trained fighter…"

I wasn't really listening. All these years, it's been the same old things, like how could I let others take advantage of me, take me against my will. If he only knew…

"Are you listening to me? She was a girl!" He yelled to get my attention.

"Yeah, I know! Thanks for reminding me!" I answered back. I wasn't acting to look this angry. I was really mad at what I did. Guilt was eating my insides.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that! Todavía soy tu padre!" He yelled more. His voice echoed in the whole room. Damn, he was scary. I looked away, not wanting him to see how frightened I was. Silence engulfed the whole room for a while before he broke it. "You've gone soft, mija." He calmly said. "All I'm asking is for you take care of yourself. Don't ever let looks deceive you, okay?"

I didn't respond. All those words no longer strike me.

"Go get dressed properly." He said. I turned to him with my eyebrows crossed. "Your tío Carlos and tía Maria will arrive today."

Of course. Everyone will arrive soon enough. Once again, he'll be able to show off his wealth and power. Carlos Torres was my father's cousin. Of all our relatives, he's the one to have a wealth close to my father's. Although he had no connection to my father's _La Sombra_, his religious connections were enough for him to enjoy fame. My father loathed that man.

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

It's been hours since I last heard from Santana. Puck said everything went well, Mike also confirmed. I hope it really did.

I knew Santana ever since grade school. Sancho and my biological father were close friends. They were each other's confidant. They were thick as thieves… until my father died. I was adopted by HiRam and Leroy when I was a young, but they let me keep my ties with Santana.

Santana and I had been close friends. I usually get bullied at school, but San was always there to defend me. Even by the time Brittany came in the picture and the two of them became best friends, I still remain at her side. It hurt a bit that she spent less time with me, but I was happy to see her happy. When Brittany left, I knew she became upset. She hardly showed her emotions but I still stood by her, attending to whatever she needs. I was a witness to everything that happened in her life, and I'm proud.

So, when she said I shouldn't touch those clothes she got from that girl Quinn, I was surprised. Santana has never behaved like that before. She never got attached to anyone, or anything for that matter. The girl must really be something.

I'm afraid that scared me a lot.

I walked out of her room and went downstairs to meet some of the guests. There were already a few relatives who came in early. Well, the Lopez mansion could accommodate them all anyway. From afar, I noticed two unfamiliar faces. That must be the acquaintance's friends.

"Hi! Welcome to—"

The guy walked closer to offer his hand. "Kurt Hummel, it's my pleasure to be here." He said with a huge smile on his face.

"I'm Mercedes Jones." The girl behind him spoke.

Yup, it's definitely them. They were both giddy. I hope they could pass on to the girl such gaiety. I shook their hands. "I'm Rachel Berry, welcome to Long Beach, California."

"You—you're the one who called me! Girl, my grandma was so grateful. Thank you." She took my hand to shake it once more.

"The pleasure is ours, and anyway, it's the Lopezes whom you should thank. I just speak on behalf of young madam Santana Lopez."

"So it's real? We're actually inside Santana Lopez' not-so-humble abode?" Kurt asked. I smiled at him. At least they knew who Santana was, unlike that girl Quinn.

I accompanied them inside. They seemed pretty close to each other. I wonder if after all this, Quinn would tell them about the deal or the incident. That had been one of the main reasons why the others were eliminated from the face of the earth—they shared a piece of information to someone they know, they trust, they love.

"This place is awfully stunning!" Kurt exclaimed.

"Pardon him. He's such a design freak." Mercedes injected. They both laughed at her remark.

From afar I saw Ms. Pillsbury walked at the corridors. Emma Pillsbury was the walking clinic of the Lopez' mansion. Be it physical or psychological pain, she could mend it, or at least try to. She's married to the head of security, Mr. Schue, that awful man we, the band members, hated so much.

Their relationship was one of the greatest mysteries in the world. I mean, they were married, but it seemed to be just a show. We never heard them talk about something that wasn't related to their work. We never saw them together. They were just never together, that's all. They even had different last names!

I snapped out of my thoughts and turned back to the spell bounded guests.

"I think you may find Quinn in one of the rooms upstairs." I told them. They both jumped in excitement.

"Thanks!" Kurt replied, and they went on their way.

A few minutes after I let the guests roamed around and fetch their friend, I saw them down the stairway, towards the garden. That was the first time I saw her, Quinn Fabray, in the flesh. I mean, I saw Mike's work with the perfectly Photoshoped picture, but seeing her in person was different. I think I somehow understood why Santana acted the way she did.

"You must be Quinn." I greeted her. She looked at me with complete anger and confusion evident on her face. "I'm Rachel Berry, pleasure to make your acquaintance." I tried to offer my hand but she ignored it.

Oh, this will be a long talk.

She asked questions that I was not supposed to answer where we were so I gestured towards the less utilized part of the garden. I wasn't surprised when she hesitated to follow me. Of course, she'd just had a life changing awful experience and she's still clueless as to the why such happened to her.

I found it hard to convince her why she should trust me. But I have one ace—and that was, simply the truth. In the end, I think I managed to persuade her to stay out of the road for a while. I may not fully explain everything to her, but I could at least warned her of what she should do from then on.

Or so I thought.

"I'm going home." I said to Santana.

She was at the far end of the garden, part that was overlooking the ocean. That was her, and perhaps her only, favorite place in their mansion. She loved the ocean, the waves, and the mysteries that lied beneath it.

The welcome party for some of the guests already ended hours ago. By that time, everyone was already inside the mansion or somewhere else, enjoying their stay at the Lopez manor. Santana wasn't particularly ecstatic about it because that means she wouldn't be able to leave their mansion until the end of her birthday celebration on Monday.

I sat beside her, keeping a bit of distance.

"I'll meet Quinn later. Hopefully she'll be right there when I arrive." She kept her silence, typical Santana. "Would you like me to—" I wasn't sure what I should say next. I was just taking my chances.

"I'll have to attend to tío Carlos and tía Maria." She hastily stood up. Clearly, she was avoiding the Quinn subject. She brushed her pants and started to walk away without looking at me.

"San…" That stopped her on her tracks.

"Just… do what I said," She said with a commanding voice. "…please."

_Please. _

You don't hear that often from one Santana Lopez. No—you _don't_ hear that at all. That's another proof that whatever happened at Las Vegas yesterday surely didn't just change the life of one person, but two.

"Okay." I said. "I'll keep in touch." I continued, but she already walked off.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

It's been said that one of the ways to calm one's self was to watch the waves. The continued surging of rolls of water in the ocean could ease one's mind, freeing it of all the thoughts that's bugging a person. I'm lucky to have that all behind our manor. At the edge of the garden was that beautiful view of the ocean, greeting me like an old friend each time I stare at it. I needed it today more than ever. Even hours after the success of code play, the thought of one beautiful lady still lingered on my mind.

Regret was not part of my dictionary. I made it a point that I would live each day as if it was my last, and that I would regret nothing as I do. For more than twenty-three years, I was fine with such motto, until that unfortunate day that I met Quinn Fabray. Almost everywhere I looked I see her face that night, filled with sadness and pain, and strength and bravery. I thought closing my eyes would do the trick, but that just worsened things. Each time I close my eyes, I could see those lovely eyes staring back at me.

I created a nightmare that would forever haunt me.

As I walked back inside the mansion, Schue greeted me with his irritatingly grim face.

"May I have a word, young madam?"

I shot him a piercing look. I remained still and silent.

"I'm hoping we could talk this over in my office."

"You can say it right here." I said. Don't get me wrong, the guy did pretty well in keeping the safety and security of our family. He just happened to me that close and loyal to my dad that's why I hate him. He put his hand on his back and walked a little.

"Okay." He cleared his throat. "I just thought you should know that in light of recent events, I ordered the suspension of Noah Puckerman as your personal bodyguard until further no—"

"What?!"

"…notice. This is due to his evident neglect of duty which resulted to unfortunate incident that endangered yourself, and possibly the whole family."

"This is ridiculous! You can't do that!"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I'm the head of security, young madam, and as such, it is my duty to oversee all security personnel that are—"

"No—you can't do that to Puck… to me! I object to that!"

"I'm afraid it's already been done. Mr. Lopez agreed to it. In the meantime, Finn Hudson, the current member of inside security will assume Mr. Puckerman's post."

"Finn? But he's an incompetent douche bag! I cannot accept him!"

He raised his eyebrows. "He's not incompetent. He trained under my supervision and I have seen his potential. If you would insist, I could call Ms. Shannon Beiste. I'm sure she'll be glad to offer her services."

No fucking way. Shannon Beiste, or coach Beiste for me, was my previous trainer, and all I could say is… there's no way I'm accepting her. If she becomes my personal bodyguard, my life will practically be a living hell.

"I could not believe this." I walked out of him in raging fury. I saw him with his pleased look on. Damn. Once he's out of my dad's services, I'll get rid of him myself.

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

I drove back home after having an exhausting day at the Lopez Manor. Normally, I'd spend the rest of the day, listening and singing to the tune of the wonderful Barbara Streisand. Well, no one have yet to protest against it since I live alone, if Santana wasn't around. After my biological father's passing, I inherited his house at Palos Verde. I was giddy about it because it was way closer to the Lopez manor than my adoptive fathers' home in Beverly Hills. They let me transfer there by the time I reached eighteen years old.

It was already dark by the time I arrived at home. I pulled on my garage and I instantly knew something was wrong.

Quinn's car wasn't there at the back.

I hurried towards the foyer to check the key.

It wasn't there either.

Yup, something wasn't right at all.

I drew the gun I hid under a tile in the foyer and held it fitfully in my hand. I went around, entering through the back door. It was unlocked. Blood rushed through my ears. I never had to draw my gun in years. An eerily cold breeze blew a strand of hair to my face. I felt the hair on the back of my head rose.

Even though I wasn't Santana's bodyguard and I opted to stay at behind whenever San and Noah go out, mostly with Aria and her friends, I was still trained to shoot. Everyone at the Lopez Manor were.

Silently, I entered with my gun pointed forward. All of the lights were off, except for the dining area. I listened carefully and heard a rustle from the same location. I tiptoed on the corridor, checking the end of the stairs. Behind the table was a figure—a man—holding a… box of cereal.

"Noah!" I yelled at him.

"Hey," He responded without looking. He was savaging a second box of cereal already. When I didn't say anything, he looked up. "Whoa! What's with the gun?" He held his hands up in surrender.

"You ate my cereals!" I exclaimed. Honestly, they weren't mine. Cheerios were Santana's.

"You're Vegan, you can't eat this!" He said while chewing on a mouthful of Cheerios.

I ran and took the box away from him. "I know. That's why I eat Kellogg's special K protein plus. That one is for Santana!" He forced a smile, seemingly saying, _oops._

Relieved, I placed my gun in a nearby drawer. "Besides, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the manor? Where's Santana?"

He put down his hands and continued eating. "I got suspended."

My eyes widened in surprise, although it wasn't surprising at all. I figured that's what Mr. Schue do since it was the fifth time we pretended something happened to Santana.

"What? Until when? Who's with her? Does she know already?"

"I have no idea. They just sent me off as soon as Mr. Schue dropped the bomb." I sat on a chair opposite to him. "I heard it'll be Finn though. Damn, he's a jackass."

I shook my head in disbelief. Santana would be outraged.

Finn Hudson was a younger and shoddier version of Mr. Schue. I mean, we all hate the man but at least he's doing his job. As for Finn, well, I don't think there's actually a job that could fit him. He's all height and no brains.

That's mean, I know.

"Why do you have a bag full of money anyway? Are you going somewhere?" Noah asked.

Bag?

Oh, good word, the bag!

That's when I felt blood drained from my face. I totally forgot about Quinn. I stood up in panic. "Where's the bag? Where's Quinn? Did you see her?"

"What?"

I ran to the living area before he could answer further. He followed me anyway. There at the center table sits the attaché case full of bundles of money. In estimation, I'd say it's around half a million.

"Where is she? Noah!" I shouted.

"I don't know, Rach. I just came in and saw that. I checked it for bomb, and since there was none, I let it be, that's all."

"This is the money they gave to Quinn. You should have seen her! Where is she?"

"I told you I didn't. I came here not an hour ago."

Screwed up—we're absolutely screwed up.

I retrieved my phone to call Quinn and fortunately, it rang. A few seconds later, however, I was sent to her voicemail. I tried a couple of times all to no avail.

"She's not picking up." I walked to and fro around the living room while trying. "I'll ask Mike." I said. Noah turned his laptop on and checked the surveillance videos.

"It's Rachel."

"_Oh, hi there! Mike's not here at the moment, so I'll be filling in him today."_ It was Sugar, his assistant. Although I rarely talk to her, we knew she's definitely on our side since she basically worshipped Mike. _"How can I help?"_

"Please track Quinn's number. I'm sure Mike has them there."

"_Got it." _

Meanwhile, Puck reviewed the surveillance camera and finally found the time when Quinn came in. "Here!"

I ran behind him and saw the girl pulled in front of my house and came out with the bag which she left inside. Shortly after leaving the bag behind, she drove away. I noticed no one else was with her, not even inside her car.

"_Rachel?"_ I almost forgot about Sugar. _"I checked her phone and coordinates suggest that it is located…"_ The hesitation in her voice was unnerving at that point. _"…on the same street as yours."_

"What? Could you check it carefully?" I heard her typed on her keyboard before responding again.

"_Yeah, I'm positive."_

I looked at Puck, baffled.

"Try calling it again." He said before he went outside to check it. He rummaged through the garbage can and retrieved a mobile phone. Quinn got rid of her phone. That sure wasn't an accident.

"We got it, Sugar. What about the old gray Ford Explorer she drove? Any idea?"

"_You mean the one with plate number LQF 989?" _

"Yeah, that. Please."

"_I already got that monitored. After leaving the manor, she dropped her friends off to the airport, taking the East Pacific Coast highway. She drove back to your house, approximately two hours later. She took the Harbor Freeway, only to take turn at Figueroa Street. That's when I lost track of the car."_

There was a momentary silence on both ends. What was Quinn thinking?

"_I could hear the gears on your head turn," _We heard her laugh_._ Another weirdo, we've got._ "Of course, I checked why the car never got back on the road again, and as I've thought, she sold it. There's a car sale on Figueroa_."

"Wow, she knew how to cover her tracks." Puck said with an amused look on his face. "Not bad, not bad at all."

He was right. For someone who spent her time working at the café and studying at home, she unexpectedly knew how to move appropriately in times like this. That girl was full of surprises indeed.

"I just hope she's not going home." I said.

"_I think I can answer that, too." _Sugar replied. I forgot she's on speaker. _"She boarded a train at Harbor Freeway Station to Dallas City."_

She's definitely not homebound.

"Okay, thanks. I have to tell Santana." I turned to Puck and excused myself.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

The cold winter wind gusted through my skin. A small shiver electrified my body. I sip on my glass of wine to ease the coldness. A lot had happened in the past day, I admit, but honestly? That's a typical day for me. I sneak, I run, I hide, I sleep, and a new day begins. It's already part of my system, a routine full of misdemeanor and of misfortunes.

The night sky was endearing, the stars and planets shimmered. Sometimes, I wish I could simply join them so I could see the view from the top, literally. Up there, it would be easier to find her, to watch over her. What a beautiful sight it would be…

I was caught up in my cloud of thoughts when an image from below caught my attention. As soon as I recognized what—who it was, I wish I didn't bother to.

It was Finn. He was walking around the garden, possibly watching me. No, definitely. I rolled my eyes as he looked up to check on me. Fuck, his mere existence annoyed me so much.

"¿Cómo es mi sobrina favorita?" A huge raspy masculine voice from behind startled me. It was my uncle Carlos. He knew I'd be here at the balcony.

"Muy bien, tío." I smiled at him.

"¿La verdad?" He poured himself a glass of wine and joined me. I slightly raised an eyebrow. He may have sensed my sentiments.

I was a bit wordless for a minute. I watched him as his eyes gazed upon the ocean. Sometimes I wish he was my father, always checking up on me, making sure I was alright—an actual father.

"Sometimes, life gets in our way; sometimes, we get in life's way. Wherever you stand in that situation, only you would know." He drank the rest of his wine in one gulp. "But it's not like it matters anyway, does it?"

I had no idea what he was talking about. He placed the wine glass on the table and turned to me. "Well, buenas noches, mija, y que tengas felices sueños."

"Buena noches, tío." This time, I forced a smile.

Just like the old times, he would swoop in to throw some deep thoughts and leave me behind to ponder on it. Oh, I wish he simply quoted the bible for his pep talk. That would have been easier to understand.

I smiled to myself and shrugged his words off.

Maybe he just had too much alcohol already.

I ended my brief soliloquy. Dinner would be served anytime now, but I chose not to eat. I headed to my room, and remembered something that drew a smile to my face. Hastily, I retrieved it like a child taking out her favorite sweet she hid during the day to save it for midnight.

Her clothes. Her scent was all over it. Nostalgia embraced me. The memory of that night; the taste of her lips on mine; the heaven that was her eyes… I never felt anything like that before. Would it be too much if I ask for that again? That same feeling that squeezed my whole being. Would it?

And then when my phone rang. My heart raced. It was Rachel

"S." I answered with an indifferent tone.

"_Hey, San. As I promised, I kept in touch."_

"Puck got suspended." I greeted her. I could still feel the anger from earlier.

I heard her sigh from the other line. _"Yeah, I heard… Puck invited himself into my house earlier, without telling me."_

"Oh, so the bastard is there."

"…_and he's consuming all of your cereals. Ugh, he never gets full. Anyway, about Quinn…"_

And there it was, the news I'd been longing to hear all this time. I wanted to call Rachel about it, but I didn't want to appear that desperate. I mean, I wasn't.

Really.

"…_we lost her."_

I almost dropped my phone. My eyes widened in surprise. "What?!"

"_I mean, physically, she's not here, not when we arrived. She passed by as I had instructed but…"_ I put my hand on my chest, and sighed in relief. She almost got me.

"But what?"

"_She just came by to leave the money. She left the whole bag full of it, not even a dollar was taken."_ Rachel reported.

Truthfully, I expected her to do such thing. She didn't seem to be the person who would willingly sacrifice their dignity for some thick bundles of bucks. She really was different.

"_She also got rid of her phone and her car."_ She continued. "_Sugar managed to track her through the traffic cameras."_ I listened. It was a little heartbreaking. _"One good thing we learned was that she didn't head home. She boarded a train to Dallas."_

That was a bit of good news, indeed. She did herself a huge favor for doing those things. Mr. Schue's henchmen would surely forget about her.

And I think she'll do the same to us.

I'm sure she'll do her best to do so. She should since we drastically changed her life so sudden without giving her any other options. She was just taking a break from the world, but I changed it for good. We caused her nothing but trouble—_I _was nothing but trouble.

I saw her as an angel, and she probably saw me as a devil.

I smiled to myself.

She's most definitely right. My evil ways were everything that I've got. That's how I was raised; that's how I lived. That's where I excel.

I felt a boulder fell on my chest, a lump stuck on my throat. A sickening sensation embraced my body.

"_Santana?" _Rachel's voice somehow brought some sense back to myself. _"What do we do now?"_

"Nothing." I responded immediately while I was still sane enough. I heard her hesitate on the other line. "We do nothing more."

"_But you said—"_

"I said you should not let her go back home. Clearly, she wasn't on her way there now. You already did what I told you. We're no longer liable to her." I swallowed silently. "We're done."

That's it. We're done. The end.

I threw my phone on the wall out of disappointment. It simply fell on the floor, unbroken. I lied down on my stomach. She must've hated me so much. I hid her shirt back inside the drawer.

Quinn Fabray, a name I may not truly forget.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for the support. Reviews are loved!

- inksandpapers


	3. Chapter 3

This is a **Glee** Quinntana fanfic with mentions of characters from **Pretty Little Liars**, **Grey's Anatomy** and **Buffy the Vampire Slayer**, written in varying first person point of view. Inspired by Dianna Agron's upcoming movie, **The Family**.

**Disclaimer: **All characters mentioned herein belongs to their respective owners. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

**You Spell Trouble**

**Chapter III**

_**Present Day**_

**Quinn Fabray**

Since I was young, I was always fascinated by guns. I love to watch action movies where missing target was impossible. I even used to join my father whenever he did target shooting, one thing that I enjoyed doing with him.

So, despite my mom's great divergence to violence, I was able to convince her for me to be trained by one of her friends who was a known ace target shooter, Faith. Of all four of us, I was the one that could be entrusted with a gun, my mom said, since I hated violence as well.

I arrived at Palmento by lunch time. I was exhausted and starved to say the least so I was so eager to walked inside that two-storey beach house and be pampered. It was more than ten years since I last set a foot in this place. Besides the change of landscaping, everything was almost the same. Nostalgia took over myself for a minute. I heard my own laugh from the living room up to the second floor as I was chased for bath time.

A smile curved on my face.

Finally, I'm home.

I stepped on the wooden flooring towards the door. Part of it creaked but I ignored it. I knocked on the door eight consecutive times as I was told before. Nothing happened though which was curious because there was a motorcycle parked outside the garage.

"Hello?" I yelled as I peaked inside through the window.

Since no one answered, I went on and tried to turn the knob.

It was unlocked.

I slowly opened the door just enough for me to enter, and just as my eyes had a glimpse of the inside, my childhood flashed before my eyes. Everything inside was arranged just as how I remembered—from the ceiling fan overhead down to the carpet under my feet. I almost ran to the stairs upon seeing the painting hanged on its wall, the very same piece of art painted by my mother.

Then something hit me. My instinct told me to stay calm and still. I looked down, and noticed that I did hit something. It was a thin cord attached to both ends of the room.

My heart stopped.

Oh, crap.

Quickly, I stepped back. Soon after I moved, a large shiny axe swung from the far end ceiling down towards my direction and it finally hit the ceiling on the other side.

I heard something turned from above. I glanced up a bit to check if my impulse was right.

And I was.

I jumped forward and rolled on the floor once just in time to dodge the sharp daggers falling from the ceiling. I ended up face to face with a needle crammed couch. My eyes widened in surprise. Blood rushed through my ears. I could feel my heart pound so hard. I gulped once and listened closely, not daring to move or breathe.

What have I gotten myself into?

While my life was at great risk, I couldn't help but glanced at my mom's painting. It was telling me something. The moment was interrupted by the continued shaking of the ground. The fucking wooded floor was shaking.

It broke before I could move but I managed to hang on the center table. That too, however, was starting to fall. I pulled myself up, not looking down at the pitch black abyss down below. I gathered all energy I had left to pull harder and saved myself. I got some bruises on my thighs and feet but it all weren't that painful—or at least, not at that moment. I back away from the hole on the ground.

The open hallway to my right was eerily dark but it wasn't silent. Something shiny was coming from that direction. I focused my eyes and I realized that it was another booby trap aimed to pierce my body. I sidestep to avoid the dagger, but then there were more. I snatched the metallic plate that fell from the table to protect myself as I passed through the door's way towards the end of the staircase where my mother's painting was hanged.

"I always wonder when that'll be put to use."

Someone spoke from the mid landing of the staircase. She had her back leaning against the wall. Her messy brunette hair hid part of her face but I knew exactly how she looked like. Her sleepy eyes and her inviting lips, how can I forget? She's all the family I have left and we're not even blood related.

I slowly turned to her direction

"Is that how you greet your guests?" I asked as I panted.

"You've gotten slow. Your instinct is wearing." She scolded as she walked down the stairs.

I shot her a piercing look. "Time can't really change you, can it?"

"I miss you, too, Lucy." She smiled and gave me a hug.

It was Faith.

"You ruined my childhood home." I hit her on the shoulder as I stepped back.

She was probably six to ten years older than me yet she looked as young as I first met her. Seeing her in such state made me a bit conscious of how I look.

"Hey, you're the one who came in without prior notice! Besides, that trap won't be activated had you noticed my warning outside."

"It's that crack, wasn't it? Ugh. What if I want to surprise you?"

"Is that what you wanted?"

* * *

"So, what brought you back?" She asked as she tended my wounds.

"I…" I hesitated. I could trust Faith with my life but I didn't want to make big deal out of what happened. As my mother's confidant, I'm pretty sure she'll freak out once she learned what I just been through. I stared at my plate, keeping my eyes away from hers. "…miss the ocean, that's all." I continued.

She didn't say anything. I could feel that she wasn't convinced but I hoped that she'd drop it. Fortunately, I only got minor bruises, mainly scratches from the sharp ends of the broken wooden floor.

"You recently got into a fight?" She asked out of nowhere.

I crossed my eyebrows in confusion. "No, why would I be?" I shrugged.

I totally forgot about the wound I got from hitting a guy back at the Lopez manor. I looked back at Faith with a completely different expression on my face—anxious. She knew something was up, I could feel it under her gaze. I pretended to be unaware of her discovery.

"Well, this one's not fresh." She was referring to the bruise on my fist.

She got me. In my desire not to be followed on my here, I got rid of everything I had, even my bag. I was speechless for a moment, couldn't think of further excuse.

One reason why I'd rather keep that secret from her was the fact that she could take an army by herself. Don't be fooled by her good looks. She's nothing but badass, and with a gun on her hands, she's unstoppable.

The silence once again grew unbearable.

"What happened, Lucy?" She spoke. The way she talked to me reminded me of my mom. She had a point. She sat on the other side of the couch.

"Why did you come back?"

* * *

_**Sixty Hours Ago**_

**Rachel Berry**

Sunday. Five thirty in the morning.

My alarm went off at five thirty am as I rose early to properly start my day—a bit of running, a healthy, hearty breakfast, an update with the latest news, and a complete schedule for the whole day. Oh, I mean, _Santana's_ schedule.

Technically, I wasn't employed by the Lopezes to assist Santana. Unlike Puck, and Mike for that matter, my reason for staying with her was completely grounded on friendship. Unknown to her, however, Mr. Lopez once asked me to help her out for whatever, whenever, wherever. I gladly obliged since… well, Santana occupied a special place in my heart.

It was almost seven in the morning by the time I arrived at the Lopez manor. I went straight to Santana's bedroom, since I knew she's still peacefully slumbered on her bed. It was a typical Sunday for us: me, trying to wake her up for a whole thirty minutes, and her, grunting like I was an alarm clock that can be snoozed. We were back to our daily routine, except for one tiny piece of peculiarity that I ignored that moment.

"San, we're running late. You've got to wake up now."

"Mhhmmm." She looked so adorable while sleeping, like a child that would not dare hurt a fly.

I sat at the foot of her bed and touched her foot. Surprisingly, that was one known weakness of her. I slightly stroke her foot which made her whimpered a little. A few more strokes and I finally won her consciousness.

"Mhmm… sto—" She muttered as she opened her eyes. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" She sat up straight, pulling her foot back. I couldn't keep my laughter.

"I'm sorry. I really had to wake you up already."

"AND YOU THINK THAT'S A VALID EXCUSE TO TOUCH MY FOOT? YOU CAN'T TOUCH THAT, YOU HERE ME? I'M UNTOUCHABLE!" She yelled at me. The look on her face was priceless. It was hilarious beyond belief.

"Stop shouting, San, and don't say you're untouchable. You don't even know what that means." I let out a chuckle.

"OF COURSE I DO! That means… you can't touch my foot!" She insisted. "…and my other foot."

"No, in India, untouchability was the least favored characteristic. To be an untouchable means you're at the bottom of their social system… and that you're ritually unclean."

"Oh, for Buddha's sake! It's too early for history lessons, Berry." She hid under the sheets, keeping her foot away from my direction.

I stood up and checked the schedule at my phone.

"Anyway, now that you're awake, you should go and take a bath. We need to be at Beverly Hills before lunch."

We were supposed to meet Isabelle Wright, a famous designer from Paris who was also an editor at Vogue magazine, at her shop in Beverly Hills to try on different dresses that Santana would wear tomorrow on her birthday celebration, among others.

She grunted. "Do I really have to come?"

"Yes, I already told you that."

"I always do dress rehearsals at home. Why should we go out this time?" She whined.

"Just do as I say, Santana Lopez." My voice was loud and stern. "Besides, don't you want to go out? We can go somewhere else right after the rehearsals if you want."

She laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, like we can go somewhere without your stupid suitor snooping right behind me like a lost puppy begging for attention."

That caught me off guard. Finn Hudson used to court me back in high school. He was a nice guy but I don't know… I didn't feel like we would click. Besides, I was already happy. I didn't think I need someone… a boyfriend, or something.

"I... N-no—what? That's… This is—" Ugh. I hate it when she does that to me.

"Whatever." Her last word before she took a shower.

Before I went on my way, I noticed that sort of peculiarity waving at me. I knew she'd forget about it so I took care of it and did Santana a favor.

She'll thank me for it.

Maybe.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

After a warm bath, I put on my usual casual clothes on and went on my way to greet our guests. I wasn't expecting my dad to be there, too, but he was and he's disgustingly laughing with them over something.

I entered the dining room right after the soups were served. Tia Maria waved at me.

"¡Buenos diaz!" She greeted. I greeted her back with a fake smile.

Tio Carlos cleared his throat. "Mija, why don't you join us for breakfast?" He said.

Unlike the two of them, my dad simply stared at me as I entered the room. Not even a nod was given. I did the same to him. Quite a father-daughter relationship, I know.

"No, gracias, tio. I just want to greet you before I go. I have a dress rehearsal with Isabelle Wright." I said as proudly as possible.

"Isabelle Wright of L'exquis?" My aunt asked, astounded to say the least. She was referring to Isabelle's clothing line in France. My dad had that pleased look on his face. That's what he wanted—to brag everything he had that they didn't.

I nodded.

"Uau! I heard she made Kate Middleton's wedding dress, not to mention all other international personalities." She clapped her in excitement. I smiled—no, smirked at her.

I was about to go when my dad finally spoke. "Make sure you take a look at the list of eligible bachelors before you go, and choose your escort for tomorrow."

I stopped on my track.

"Yes, that's what we were talking about earlier. If you would ask me, I'll suggest Logan Lerman. Oh, such sweet young man."

If I didn't knew better, I'd say that list was a complete copy of all Hollywood celebrities, even if they're not that eligible.

My father shook his head. "What about Brody Weston? He's a—"

"…lieutenant, following the footsteps of his father." I cut him. That angered him a bit but I continued before he could open his mouth. "I appreciate you for putting together such list, but I do not intend to have an escort. I won't be alone though, I'll have Berry—Rachel, by my side."

Nobody said anything right after my speech. My father was probably already boiling inside. His face tells it all.

"Well, Sancho, you have an amazing daughter here. By going alone you'll be sure to demonstrate grace and independence, a true example of a modern day woman." My uncle Carlos broke the silence. He was sure to back me in times like that.

"Of course! What a bright young lady. But let's invite Logan anyway. I just love to look at him."

"If that's what you want." My father said as he gestured his hands up in defeat. That was one of the rare moments when he accepted defeat. I owe that to our guests, especially Uncle Carlos.

He winked at me and I smiled at him.

Why can't he be my father?

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

Everyone was silent on our way to Beverly Hills. Maybe Santana and his father had an argument again. I wanted to ask her about that thing I noticed earlier but I was afraid that it might be a bad idea. Just then, I received a text message from Sugar.

_**From: Motta, S.**_

_From Dallas to Jacksonville at 0900s._

Although Santana called it off, I asked Sugar to monitor Quinn's whereabouts. I knew I made the right decision after what I witnessed earlier. Perhaps I should really I ask her about it.

"I noticed you had a goodnight sleep." I confidently asked.

"I noticed the gigantor's nowhere to be found. Where's the moron?" She instantly had a fitting counter.

It was true though. I asked Finn to go to Beverly Hills first and survey the area for no particular reason. Santana hated the guy and I knew she wouldn't want to share the same car with him, unlike Puck.

"He's already there. I thought you wouldn't want him in your car."

"My car? Definitely not. But this is my dad's car, Rachel. And that moron's my bodyguard. He's supposed to be with me at all times." She crossed her arms and eyed me. "Not unless you don't want to share the car with him."

See, that's a defensive Santana. She passes the spotlight to someone else just to keep her safe. We both knew what she actually meant and we both said nothing more about it.

All the more reason for me to keep an eye on Quinn.

"Am I right?" She asked again, that time with a smirk. I eyed her in response. "I knew it! I knew you like him! Wow, you really have an awful taste, Rach."

"What—no! I don't like him, okay? Quit it."

"You like him and I knew it even before you did." She crossed her arms. "It's fine, Rachel. I'm not forbidding you to go out with anyone, as long as it does not get in our way. You're mine before you become someone else's, remember that, okay?" She winked at me.

She was really full of herself, but I do love her. Without looking at gender, I'd say she's my first love. I hope she won't get mad at me once she learned what's really in stored for her in Beverly Hills.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

"Bonjour! Welcome to L'exquis. They're already waiting for you. Come this way, s'il vous plaît!" A well dressed lady said as we entered the shop.

"They?" I whispered to Rachel and she just shrugged. She looked somewhat tensed, maybe because she was excited to see Isabelle, too. Oh, these celebrities.

There were a couple of actresses from some movie I can't remember hanging around the shop. Rachel waved at them like a fangirl. Wait, she was a fangirl.

The lady escorted us to a private showroom right at the back of the shop. All the dresses were displayed around. I counted twenty, but the lady said there were more to come.

"What's up with all of these dresses? There's too many of them." I turned to Rachel, who gave me no response. "They don't expect me to change every five minutes, do they?"

"San, I don't know. It's their gift. You should ask them."

Wow, I haven't seen her snapped in a while. Perhaps I pushed the Finn subject too far. I'll keep that in mind.

"She'll be with you in a moment." The lady peaked from the door and left us again. Rachel stood up and looked outside the window. She was walking to and fro.

"Rach, relax. It's just Isabelle. We can call her again just in case you don't get an autograph, okay?" I joked but she was too serious to make it.

A few moments later, Isabelle came in.

The designer was irritatingly giddy about the clothes and the party. I looked at Rachel but she was attentively listening to Isabelle. If the designer wasn't looking at me, I would've nudged her just to get her attention. Something was definitely not right.

"So, all of these dresses are yours to keep. Don't worry, I'll have them delivered to you before the day ends. Have you already chosen which one you'll wear for tomorrow?"

She awaited my response, but I couldn't think of a polite one.

"Why are we here then?" I said. "These clothes seemed to fit me well, and you'll have them delivered to my place. Don't tell me, we drove for hours just to hear an opinion."

I've got Rachel's attention now. They were both surprised at my remark, although there was something else.

"You really are a bright girl, Santana." Isabelle smiled. "I requested to your friend that you join me here today for some special reason, although she was clueless to my true intention until Friday. Don't get mad at her though, okay? I asked her to keep it a secret."

"Then why am I here?" That was my turn to snap. Isabelle gestured to her assistant and the lady exited the room.

"Just calm down, San." It was Rachel. She leaned in closer and touched my back.

"I don't like fucking games, okay?" I stood up and I was ready to leave.

That's when she entered the room.

"Santana! Mind your manners!"

A sweet painfully familiar voice echoed from behind. My heart skipped a beat upon hearing my name. It was the same voice I played inside my head over and over like a lullaby just to be able to sleep at my darkest nights.

It was my mom.

If I was the queen of the badland, she's the queen-in-absentia. She left home to tour the world, and finally found a home in London. Music was her first love, and that turned out to weigh more than us, her family. That was a heartbreaking truth. Although they weren't divorced, I knew it was impossible for my parents to be together again.

Nobody said anything until she's finally face-to-face with me.

"Can I not surprise my own daughter?" She continued. I looked away. I was never close to my father because I was always with my mom. She was my idol, an icon engraved to my heart.

At some point in my life, I hated her for leaving me with my father. I didn't understand why she had to go and live somewhere else, and why I can't be with her. Later, however, I learned that she was fulfilling her dreams, something that she wasn't able to do when she was with my father. And at the course of doing so, she met this one guy that made her felt like she was a queen, without having the same restrictions that my father conferred on her.

She was finally on top of the world.

I, too, was looking up at her. I can't say I fully understood her reasons now, but I guess I've grown to accept them.

"Rachel, darling, why don't you help me arrange the delivery of these clothes?" Isabelle asked Rachel.

She nodded and turned to me and whispered. "I'll be outside." Before leaving, she shook my mother's hand. "It's nice to see you, madam."

"Likewise, sweetheart."

* * *

"When did you arrive?" I asked as I looked out of the window. I stayed away from her, hiding the tears that formed in my eyes.

"Earlier today, and I'll be leaving later tonight. I just wanted to see you."

I'd be lying if I say that didn't hit me. I wanted to hug her and ask her to stay but of course, pride won't let me. I was pretty sure she'd decline anyway.

"I also want to personally give you my gift." To be honest, seeing her was enough present for me. She had other things in her mind though. I heard her walked closer from behind. I didn't turn around. I just waited for her to continue. "Come to London with me."

"What?"

"Come visit London. It'll be fun, I swear. I'll be your personal tour guide." I could imagine the smile on her face while saying those words.

"You mean, come to London with you, and live with your boyfriend, and tour London with you two smooching behind my back." I said as I faced her. "That's cute."

She would've slapped me. She wanted to. I mean, if I was in her position, I would've slapped myself. But she didn't. Instead, she sighed and touched my face with her hand.

"It's okay, baby girl." My heart leaped. Her touch was electrifying. It reminded me how much I missed her, how much I missed my mom. Love was a painful thing. "I can't imagine what you must be feeling, but I understand." She said as I turned away from her.

How can she not know and still understand? Pathetic. That's just guilt talking.

"It must be hard on you, sweetheart. I'm sorry for putting you through all these."

"If you have nothing more to say, I'm leaving." I waited for a couple of seconds before I started walking towards the door.

"Just one more thing." She said.

I turned around and saw her caught up to me. She was so close I could've hugged her. She took her necklace and put it around my neck. It has her meteor pendant. I can't fully remember the story behind that piece of jewelry, but I do remember seeing her wear it since I was a child. It was special.

"When you're ready, baby girl, the world shall, too."

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

Being with the Lopezes had its perks. One of them was meeting international celebrities every other day. Honestly, I was a bit excited about going to Los Angeles. We may live in California, but we rarely visit Hollywood or Beverly Hills.

My smile instantly faded upon seeing Santana rushing out of the showroom's door. I could see in her eyes that their conversation didn't go well.

"We're leaving." She uttered as she passed me by.

I made a quick turn to Isabelle and bid goodbye.

"On behalf of Santana, I sincerely thank you for everything."

She smiled at me. But what caught my attention was Santana's mom walking towards my direction with her eyes locked on the Latina who was already inside the car.

"You girls grew up fast." She said.

Seeing her was like seeing a future Santana, her brown eyes and brunette hair. Without all her hits and awards, I'd say she's just a typical mom who had a daughter that's an exact copy of her. I bet that's what Santana wished.

"Please look after her." She continued. I bowed to both of them before I went to follow Santana outside.

I never thought meeting an international singer would be that ordinary—known to the world as Jay Lopez.

I noticed Finn standing in front of the car when I came out. For one bodyguard he was doing… beyond that. He was oddly guarding the car. I was about to enter the car when the passenger seat door flew open. I looked inside and found Santana at the driver's seat.

"What are you doing? Where's the driver?"

"I sent him home."

"What? What about Finn?" I pointed up front. Something happened when I was still inside for sure.

"He's standing in front of the car thinking that can stop me from driving away."

"Wait, what are you doing to do, run him over? Where are we going?"

She didn't answer anymore questions though. She started the car and honked once. When Finn didn't budge, she put the car on reverse and moved back a little, just enough to avoid her bodyguard on her next acceleration.

"San—"

And we're off.

* * *

_**Present Day**_

**Quinn Fabray**

"So, what now?"

"Shush, I'm thinking about the list."

"What list?"

"_The_ _list_." Baffled, I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, right, I forgot." She lowered her voice as she continued. "That's the list of all syndicates and their respective territories in Americas."

Now, it made sort of some sense.

"They said your group can't be considered notorious not unless you made it that list." She sat in front of me, and sipped on her coffee. "Listen, promise me you'll never mention that you have an idea that such list exists, okay? This is extremely classified. By simply having knowledge of that list can have you killed in a minute."

"But you do have an idea that such thing exists." I looked at her curiously. Does that mean she's in trouble? I knew she had knowledge of such stuff but I never got to ask her how come she knew.

I think. She ignored my question.

"Anyway, you said Lopez, right? That's easy. Santana Lopez is the daughter of Sancho Lopez. That guy is the leader of La Sombra, the Shadow. They are the most dominant group in the Western section of United States, although recently, their influence had gone to the east as well."

"So, am I in danger?"

"Well, you made it out," She stood up and stared outside the window. "But you're lucky to be alive."

"Wait, you mean, I'm supposed to be dead?"

She crossed her arms. The last time I saw that serious was when I almost hit my mom with an arrow to the head. "No one messes with Sancho Lopez and lives."

"Apparently, I did." I let out chuckle.

"This is serious, Lucy." Her fist slammed against the wall. "You made it out alive because you're different. You may be lucky, but even luck requires skill."

It was my turn to cross my arms and raise an eyebrow. "Is that a compliment?"

"If you didn't have an excellent trainer, you're probably colder than ice by the time you set a foot outside Cali."

That made me smile. "Yeah, if it weren't for your vampire slaying skills, I'm most definitely lying six feet under."

"Or dumped in some dark, smelly place, or burned at a stake."

We both laughed. I always joked about her being a slayer. People said she used to kill vampires in Europe. She laughed the idea off, and ever since I heard of it, I always used that to make fun of her.

"Something's bugging me though." She walked around, thinking. "You said, Santana's friend offered you something, right?"

"Rachel Berry—she gave me her address, and told me to wait there. She said she'll explain everything to me. " I shrugged.

"Why didn't you wait for her?"

"Why would I? For all I know they will probably mess up with me again. They couldn't have done something to keep me safe, right?"

"I see your point. But look, these kids, they don't meddle with Sancho's deals. They may have caused the trouble, but right after seeking shelter under his roof, they're hands off to whatever happens next."

"So, what does that mean? That they're keeping me safe from god that was Sancho?"

"I understand your skepticism. They messed with your life, I get it. But aren't you curious why would they do such thing?"

"I don't care, okay? My life's all fucked up. I just want to get away."

"You left your job, you haven't paid your bills, you disconnected from your friends, you abandoned your scholarship… Yeah, I would say your life's fucked up." She leaned on the wall and looked at me with a straight face. "…and you're sitting there letting the bad guys live rent free in your head."

She was right. My life was messed up, but I let it happened. When things go rough, I tend to bail—all the time. I always choose to run away than face whatever life has thrown at me.

"What do you want me to do? Go back there, confront theses royalties and ask for compensation? You said so yourself that my life is in danger!"

"Stand up for yourself, Lucy! Even just this once!"

I hate how right she was.

"How the hell am I suppose to do that?"

* * *

_**Forty Eight Hours Ago**_

**Santana Lopez**

It can't be.

I've buried the hatchet fifteen years ago. I can't go through this again.

A tear fell from my eye but I didn't mind it. I didn't even care about Rachel's consistent screaming beside me. I just wanted to get rid of this heavy feeling in my chest. I need it out of my system.

"Santana, stop it!"

I ignored her. I couldn't stop. The rush was slowly mending my heart. It felt too good.

"San, please! You're gonna get us killed!"

I geared up once more and stepped on the accelerator. The road was calling me, the wind clapping inside my ears. Tears were flowing away I could barely feel them.

"SANTANA LOPEZ YOU LISTEN TO ME RIGHT NOW!" Rachel yelled. "STOP THE CAR THIS INSTANT!"

Like a bell after a fight, Rachel's voice echoed inside my head. She brought me back to reality. Immediately, I stopped the car. A loud screeching sound followed. Dust flew outside.

I panted as the adrenaline wore off. Rachel was catching her breathe beside me.

"What on earth were you thinking?!"

I don't know. I totally forgot that I wasn't alone.

"Get out." I ordered.

"Absolutely not! You're more prone to doing crazy stuff when I'm not around, so no. I'm not leaving you!"

"Get the fuck out!" I shouted.

I wasn't mad. I just wanted to scream, to get rid of everything inside. Rachel was persistent though. She crossed her arms as she sat firmly on the passenger seat. She was crying. I heard her sob but she was trying to hide as she looked away. She was shaking too. Damn, she's really a lightweight.

"I…" I couldn't apologize. "I'm…"

I looked at her, but the moment was interrupted by the sound of police siren growing louder and louder.

I'm busted.

* * *

"License and registration please."

The policeman asked as he peaked on my window. I gave him what he asked for and went out of the car right after.

"W-wait, sir, I'm Rachel Berry." She took an ID out of her bag. "Can we please talk about it instead?" She always does that, save my ass whenever I was in trouble. I sighed as the police slightly shook his head.

"Sorry, ma'am. Laws are there for a reason."

"Please, can we do something about it? Nobody got hurt…"

Rachel was pale. If I get arrested, it'll be the next breaking news in an instant. The police turned pale, too, upon seeing my ID. I could sense that he was about to let us go, knowing who I was. Like I said, I was invincible.

"It's okay, Rach. I went over the limit. Let the officer do his job."

They both looked at me with widened eyes. I mean it. I wanted to go and get locked up for once. My dad would be outraged.

"Actually…"

"Come on, officer. Do your duty to your country." I mocked him. I entered the police car and waited inside. They talked among themselves, Rachel still pleading. The police was scratching his head, but later approached the door.

"Don't read her that." Rachel said from afar.

"Okay then, Ms. Lopez. I'll take you to the precinct."

Outside, Rachel called someone before she entered the other car. If there's something she can't do, that was to drive. She's a crappy driver. I hope she could make it to the precinct.

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

Accelerate, clutch, brake, gear up, gear down, reverse—it's easy to memorize but since my hand-eye coordination was next to zero, I completely suck at driving. That's no news.

I made it to the precinct anyway, with Finn to the rescue. I couldn't drive, that's it.

Santana was no longer there when I arrived. Later, I learned that she was held inside a prison for the time being since she cannot bail herself out. I've got to get her out of there.

"Uhm, excuse me. I'm looking for Santana Lopez."

A police officer chewing a gum unattractively turned to me. "She's right where she belongs." She said, followed by a snort.

And they call themselves men of justice? I would've punched her in the face if she wasn't an officer. Really. No one insults Santana in front of me.

"Is that so?"

She officer scratched her nose disgustingly. "Honey, this is no place for children. Go play with your Barbie doll somewhere else." She spat on the ground after that remark.

That's it.

She pushed too hard. I'll make sure she'll pay for it.

"Pardon, Ms. Berry. I think our officer right here must have forgotten her place." A not so familiar voice came from behind. He cleared his throat and the police woman instantly stood up, saluted him.

It was Lt. Brody Weston, son of California Highway Patrol chief of police, Bradly Weston. He was part of the losng list of guys asking Mr. Lopez for Santana's hands. Tough luck for him, Mr. Lopez respects Santana's love life. One of the very few…

"Officer, would you mind getting Ms. Santana Lopez for us?"

"No, sir!"

"Good, now get her."

I rolled my eyes at the police woman as she walked off.

"Is that how justice is served?"

"Forgive them. These officers… most of them already had encounters with the Lopezes, and some of them weren't a fan."

"Yeah, I could tell."

He chuckled. "Even among police force, you have quite a charm, you know."

That was… completely out of nowhere. I could feel my face burned so I looked down. He's just a pathetic womanizer. No wonder Santana basted her over and over.

"Oh, I don't…"

"You're even prettier when you blush." I didn't look at him. I heard him chuckled though.

It was getting awkward. Thankfully, another police officer came out running, panting.

"Sir, we have a problem."

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

The smell of these walls were one, their chant was united—revenge.

Only that time, _I _was the target.

The moment I step a foot inside the precinct, I knew what was going to happen. I've seen most of these faces before, their eyes raging in fury. Either with badges or someone from behind bars, they all have one thing in common. They didn't see me as someone who simply went over the speed limit; to them, I was Sancho Lopez walking into their lair, like a meat being handed out to thousands of starving lions ready to devour me any moment.

Well, they've got the wrong meat.

"Santana Lopez, this is you." The officer said, pointing to the cell with his baton. "You are to say here until your friend arrives."

There were three women inside the cell; one was not paying attention, the other two were piercing me with their sharp looks.

"Can you fetch her? We left her in the middle of the highway without a driver and she can't drive." I asked him, but he smirked in return.

"No can do." And then he walked away, sniggering.

As I turned my back against the bars and face my cellmates, one of them was already inches away from me.

"Why, if it isn't her majesty, Santana Lopez." She pretended to do the curtsey. The other woman, the fat one, did the same. They later both burst into laughter.

The fat one walked closer. "Is papa Sancho out of the country? Can't he save his dear little princess?" She mocked in a low voice. "Too bad prince charming is not here to save your fine ass."

They snickered and chortled until they're both out of breathe.

I rolled my eyes. They must be some small time drug dealers of whatever.

"Leave her alone." The blonde one sitting at the far end of the cell spoke. At first glance I thought it was Quinn—her blonde hair, that attitude. Obviously, though, I was wrong. She can't be in there. She's on her way somewhere far from me.

"Shut up, blondie! No one's asking for your stupid opinion!"

"Yeah, shut up!"

I crossed my arms and stared at them. "If you value your lives, you should listen to her."

"You don't tell me what to do, Satan. This is our hell." The thin one took a makeshift dagger out her shoes. The other one took a detachable metal part of the bed and held it firmly.

"I haven't got action in a long while."

"This will be fun." They laughed among themselves. "And don't even try to do anything, blondie, or I would slit your throat before you know it." I noticed the blonde had her hand tied to the foot of the bed, her blue eyes evading mine. Another proof that she wasn't Quinn? Her eyes. She was badly bruised but she seemed fine.

I laughed and that stopped the two rogues. They honestly dare fight me? I thought they already know who I was. Well, they're about to find out.

"You said this is hell, right?" I asked, but none of them answered my question. "…and you called me Satan." They looked at each other as I stood straight. "Well, newsflash, morons…" I walked closer to them. "Satan rules hell."

The thin one charged her blade forward. I hit her hand, knocking the blade out her grasp with my right fist. I kneed her stomach hard and she clutched down, yelping in pain.

"You bitch!" The fat one screamed.

Her voice reached my ears before the metal bar she held did. I caught it with my left hand, not noticing how sharp it was. She was pushing it towards my face with her hands, not to mention her big arms. With both hands, I managed to overpower her, and pushed it back to her. It hit her chin, just enough to knock her out.

Blood was dripping down my hand by then. But it wasn't over. The thin one got ahold of her blade again and lunged to my direction. I stepped back to dodge it, and I felt the cold metal bars against my back. I held her hand, the one with blade, and punched her elbow. I heard her bone cracked against my fist.

"Ahhh!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Well, that would hurt for sure.

That caught the jail warden's attention.

"What the—" He hastily looked for keys which he wasn't holding so he walked back out.

I looked at my left hand and saw a deep cut beyond the blood. The blonde girl sitting at the far end of the cell didn't say anything all throughout the action. She wasn't even looking.

I tore part of my shirt to tie my wounded hand and stop the bleeding. "These crazies scare you?" I asked. She looked from her shoulder but didn't face my direction.

She shook her head. "No, blood does."

A couple of police officers arrived and opened the cell.

"Get out! Face the wall, hands on your head, right now! Move!" One of them yelled at me. "What the fuck happened here?!"

"Hell did." I whispered.

They checked the fat one's pulse and left her. The thin one didn't stop cursing. "You fucking bitch! I will kill you, you hear me? I'll kill you when I get back!"

I won't be there when she does though.

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

Lt. Weston looked back at me before he went on to check what happened.

"Just wait here." He said.

It appeared that there had been a brawl inside. My heart pounded inside my chest. I could feel that Santana was involved but I still prayed that she wasn't. I hoped that she's safe.

Santana wasn't a trouble maker.

Let me rephrase that: Santana was barely a trouble maker. She engaged in fights but most of the time, it wasn't her fault. Trouble seemed to find her everywhere she went. Maybe it comes with the name—something that she cannot definitely be blamed for.

It was her first time to be imprisoned. She'd been arrested for over speeding before, but officers barely record that. One glimpse of her name and she's already cleared. It's another mystery why she submitted herself for this. I knew her all her life but after that trip to Las Vegas, some things just changed.

Santana appeared by the doorway after I waited for what seemed like forever. On impulse, I ran to her and hugged her.

"Santana!" I sensed how her body tensed the moment I touched her. I couldn't remember for how long I stayed like that, I was just happy to see her.

"Uh, Rach…"

"Yeah? Oh, s-sorry. I'm just…" I distanced myself from her. That's when I noticed the blood on her hand. "Blood, there's blood… San, you're bleeding!" Horror dawned to me. Her left hand was bleeding badly and she's got bruises on her right knuckle, her shirt torn.

I opened my mouth but no words came out.

"I'm okay, Berry." Her cold treatment shouldn't be a surprise but it still shocked me. Lt. Weston came in from behind her with an apologetic look on his face.

"I'm so sorry. Two of her cellmates attacked her. On behalf of Captain Brass of Precinct 75, I sincerely apologize." He bowed to both of us. "We'll take care of medications. I'll have an ambulance come here as soon as possible."

He kept his eyes away from Santana, probably frightened by what she might say.

"Am I good to go?" She asked.

He turned to me, and back to Santana. "Y-yes, absolutely."

"Forget about the ambulance, I'm going home."

"But… your hand…" I tried to intervene but she was clearly not talking to me. She headed for the exit. But she stopped midway.

"Rachel will bail that blonde girl out of the cell." She said without looking before she continued outside.

Another surprise from Santana. Why was she doing all these things all of a sudden? Still, I wrote a check for whoever that was. Maybe we could talk about that later. I hope so.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

The ride back home seemed longer than I could remember. I clutched my wounded hand closer. Rachel was mumbling but her words come and go from ear to ear. I was a little lightheaded but I could still move. I smiled to myself. I forgot the last time I beat someone. It felt good that I almost miss the fight clubs I joined in college.

In the middle of the ride, I remembered why I ended up with a bleeding hand. I looked down and saw my mom's necklace around my neck. Thank god, those bitches weren't smart enough to take it. I pulled the necklace off my neck.

I can't let anyone see it. Apparently, my mom was off limits at home. No pictures, no memorabilia, no talking about her—absolutely nothing. Just like the deals that he made, my father let my mom go on the note that she will never return. He loved her so much that he wanted to keep her to himself, caging her inside the lifeless mansion that we live in. Contrary to my father's desires, my mom was a bird who yearns to fly. She hated restrictions. She wanted freedom.

They fell in love but, unfortunately, love wasn't enough. It can't conquer everything.

I went straight to my room upon arriving at the manor. Fortunately, everybody was outside when we arrived so no one saw my bloody hand.

"I'll get Ms. Pillsburry." Rachel uttered as she went the other way.

I was breathing a little heavier than usual and my hand felt somewhat numb. I was exhausted but I needed to wash all the traces of that prison off my body so I headed to the shower. The cold water, however, burned my hand.

Physical pain has a way of lessening other pains.

I was a living proof of that.

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

"The stitch was less than an inch long. She should be fine." Ms. Pillsbury whispered to me.

"That's good to hear."

"But… I figured she lost quite some blood. She'll be weak for a while. Make sure she eats properly, okay?"

"I will. Thank you."

Despite her marriage with Mr. Schue, we managed to win Ms. Pillsbury's loyalty. I guess, for her, we were the children she never had.

Santana was already asleep by the time Ms. Pillsbury left the room. I was standing by her balcony when I heard her mumbled.

"Mhmmm…" She moved a little. Maybe she was dreaming. It was barely night yet she was already peacefully asleep. "Qumm…"

I walked to her bedside and checked her temperature. It was getting higher.

"Quinn… Imsorrymmm…"

"San, are you okay?" I tucked her in.

"I'm sorry… Quinn… p-please…"

I stopped at the revelation. It was just as I assumed. Whatever happened in Las Vegas changed our Santana. Part of me was jealous, to be honest. She probably saw something in that girl, something that was worth changing for.

I touched her forehead. She whimpered. "I'm sorry…"

"It's okay, Santana." I whispered to her. "We'll find her."

* * *

"…call me back when you can."

I kept on trying to reach Sugar but I was sent to her voicemail. Something must have happened. We had strict rules about phone calls. I guess I had to remind her of that.

A few seconds later, I received a message from her.

_**From: Motta, S.**_

_In a meeting, sorry._

_Lost track of Q. No access to surveillance at Jacksonville._

Well, that's perfect. We lost her just in time when Santana's true feelings were bared. She'd just been through a lot. The least I could do was find that girl for her.

We may have lost track of Quinn for now, but that doesn't mean we can no longer find her. I dialed Noah's number. He's the perfect guy for this.

"_Hey, B. What's up?"_

"Noah! Thank god you're available."

"_Whoa, slow down. I can't say I'm available, but I can make exceptions for my friends." _I could imagine the look on his face while he was saying that.

"No—this is serious, Noah. You need to go to Florida, right now."

"_What? But I'm about too—_"

"It's top priority. Find Quinn. I just received a message from Sugar, and they don't have access to surveillance cameras at Florida."

"_That makes sense. Florida is not part of our territory, you know._"

"I know that. So get yourself a plane ticket and fly to Jacksonville. We still have time. You may arrive there before her train does."

"_Okay."_

"And Noah," I sighed. "You can't let Santana know, okay? It'll be a surprise."

"_Oh, a birthday present. I get it now. Roger that."_

We need to find her.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

For what I could remember, I slept out of exhaustion. When I woke up today, however, I was still tired. My body was too weak to move, to get out of bed. I closed my eyes to nap for a few more minutes but the noise outside was unbearable.

My hand still ached but it was tolerable. I managed to get out of bed and stretched a bit. Rachel hadn't arrived, which was odd, since she would normally barge in my room and do everything to wake me up.

No, actually, I was thankful that she's not around yet. Lying there on my bed was… Quinn's shirt. I couldn't remember how it got there or when or how.

The mystery of one Quinn Fabray still lingered in my mind. I wonder what could have happened if we met at a different time, on a different occasion.

That brought a smile to my face.

Never had I longed to know someone so much. It's a shame that all I had left were her clothes and the what ifs in my mind.

I took a shower and joined tio Carlos and tia Maria for breakfast. My dad was already busy setting things up for the night's event. It's been that way since I could remember. It may be my birthday but the celebration wasn't for me.

"Anything the matter, mija?" Tio Carlos spoke in the middle of breakfast. It was the same question he'd been asking me ever since.

I shook my head.

"You know, I've been thinking what I gave Calliope for her twenty third birth day…" He was referring to his youngest daughter, my cousin, Calliope Torres. "Maria, do you remember?"

My aunt patted a napkin on her chin and giddily responded. "Oh, of course! It was an Asian cruise. Aria was so jealous, poor child."

They were a picture of a happy, successful family. Callie was a well-known orthopedic surgeon in Seattle, while Aria was an established business woman in Ontario. They were both married to the person they really love. We, the Lopezes, were way wealthier than the Torres family, but I envied them. Their happiness was true and honest, for fuck's sake. They didn't have to pretend that money was everything.

"Say, what would you wish for your day, Santana?"

"This is exciting! What about a trip to Europe? Oh, I know… how about Maldives? I remembered you once wanted to have your own horse, right? What about Australia?"

My aunt went on with a never-ending list of world's top destination. Her giddiness was contagious, my uncle laughed at her. I've never seen our dining room lit up that way.

"Let the girl decide for herself, mi amor." And they both looked at me.

I never thought of that. Since day one, everything was already pre-decided. I had to do this, go there, and meet that. My dad never asked me what _I_ want for a day like this.

Well, I would've answered a party out with my friends, just like what I did in Vegas two days ago. That was what I wanted. But asking me the same question now… I felt differently. I didn't want a celebration. For once in my life, I felt like doing something different, something that's unbecoming of Santana Lopez, something probably right.

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

Santana was already having a chat with her uncle by the time I arrived at the manor. Despite her injury, she looked fine—glowing actually. She smiling, laughing along with him. I've never seen her light up that way.

I hope she didn't hit her head in that cell.

Mr. Torres left Santana as I arrived. She was grinning at me.

"Guests will start to arrive at 6:00 pm. I called Kitty and she'll be here seven hours prior to that. As for now… we need to choose a dress for you."

Santana shrugged and headed to her room.

Since her hand was wounded, she had to wear gloves to hide it, especially to his dad. Isabelle's gifts were all lined up inside her room. Honestly, they all looked gorgeous.

"Although there are fifteen, you can only choose from these three right here," I said as I pointed to the dress. "These are the only ones that come with gloves."

She stared at them, but I could feel that she was seeing something else. Her attention was nowhere inside the room.

"Hey," I patted her shoulder and she almost jumped. "Are you okay? Does your hand hurt?"

"I'm fine, Rach, seriously."

There was something in her eyes that I haven't seen in a long time. It was glistening.

"How about…" She turned to face me, her hands on both ends of my shoulders. "…you go home and get ready for tonight? I got this."

"N-no, I'm okay. You need to get ready for tonight. We still have to—"

"Rach, I'm serious. Go home. Get yourself pampered."

"I-I can't. I need to make sure that you're ready for—"

"I can't have you stand beside me looking like a haggard secretary, so go home."

That made me conscious to how I look. Do I really look terrible? I know I haven't got enough sleep because of the research I did last night but I made sure I looked decent enough.

She went for the black one-shoulder gown embroidered with patterns and examined it.

"Besides, you're not my assistant, Rach." I looked away from her, hurt. "You're my friend."

That changed everything. I was stunned at her words. She never acted that way before. It's like having a same old brand new Santana. Her smile didn't fade.

Something was going to happen, I could feel it. But at that point, I couldn't figure her out.

Whatever happened to Santana?

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

Everything went on just as how Rachel mentioned it. Kitty arrived to fix my hair and make-up, guests arrived at around 6:00. They'll call me anytime now.

I sat in front of the mirror. With the meteor necklace around my neck, I could see my mom in front of me. She was a beacon of freedom, of dream, of passion. She was bold enough to stand for herself, to make a choice and stand by them.

I knew what I want and I already made up my mind.

As much as I love having Rachel around, I had to keep her out this time. I trust her with my life, but in order to protect her, I had to keep this a secret for now.

She'll forgive me, I know.

I hope so.

* * *

_**Present Day**_

**Quinn Fabray**

After our argument back at the beach house, Faith and I set off to meet someone at a café nearby.

"Who are we meeting anyway?" I asked.

"We're a few steps away, can't you really wait?"

"Ugh, what's with the suspense? You know what I've just been through, right?"

Faith laughed. "Actually, you've already met. This will just serve as a formal introduction."

I rolled my eyes and grunted. "You better not mess with me…"

"If you want a pay back from the goons in California, you'll need a back-up, so we're recruiting."

A few more steps and we were indeed at the café.

"Here we are." She said.

As I step a foot inside, I already knew who we were meeting. It was the same guy I met back at Las Vegas.

The instant our eyes met, he stood up and extended his hand.

"Hi."

"Lucy, this is—"

"Sam Evans." I answered. I took his hand as a courtesy.

"I figured you'd say that." Faith uttered as she sat on the other side of the table.

"Please, have a seat." He said since I was still standing even after shaking his hand. I knew there was something about him the first time we met. I just didn't expect it to be this much kind of something.

We all ordered coffee, although Faith had two orders of triple espresso. She had always been a fan of caffeine.

"So, who's going to explain what's happening?" I asked impatiently. Since my ex-trainer was busy reading a newspaper while enjoying her coffee orders, Sam took the initiative.

"Well…" I couldn't tell if he was hesitant or simply couldn't make a sense or two. He looked smart with his suit and tie on, but without it… let's just say he looked below ordinary.

Without taking her eyes off the newspaper, Faith interfered. "I made a promise to your mom that I'll keep an eye on you. I couldn't baby sit you so I just hired him to check on you occasionally."

"You already knew I was in Las Vegas."

"Yup."

"Then why didn't you help me?" I turned to Sam.

"I didn't know what happened to you exactly. I was there at the bar but I got kicked out because of some guy…"

"Wait, so you were the paparazzi?"

"I… I wasn't! I just saw Santana Lopez, and I took the opportunity… that's all." He looked down. "I'm sorry. I wasn't able to help you."

"You mean I'm sorry I wasn't able to do my job well." Faith intervened.

The guy kept his head low. I couldn't believe that Faith kept her word. All these time, I thought I was already disconnected from my past. I guess I couldn't really run away from it.

Our conversation was interrupted by flash news on the television. Normally, I would ignore that since I had long lost interest in the world.

_Developing news: Santana Lopez gone missing?_

_Daughter of California governor, Federico, "Sancho" Lopez, who just turned 23 yesterday, was reported to be missing-in-action in her own celebration at the Lopez manor. Further reports suggested that happy-go-lucky Santana was found missing, although the renowned governor had yet to give a formal statement to confirm the allegations. _

_We have Artie Abrams reporting live from Long Beach, California. Artie?_

_Thanks, Joe. Nearly twenty hours had passed since a report that Santana Lopez was missing from their own home had erupted. An unknown source informed newsmen that things got fishy when the young Lopez didn't appear at her own birthday celebration._

_In my interview with a guest from last night's party who opted not to be named, he said, and I quote, "She [Santana] did not appear for the formal presentation, but everyone assumed that she was there." Other guests claimed that they have seen Santana at the party. _

_Up to this moment, Joe, the Lopez manor is still closed to the media. _

The news made me laugh. Oh, please. Santana was missing? For all I know, that's just another play, another set up. She and her friends were probably up to something, and they decided to make it big this time.

"You think this has something to do with Quinn?" Sam asked.

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, please. She's just faking it. For all I know, she's just somewhere setting up someone for her own amusement."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "You really think so?"

"I know so. That's what they did to me. She and her friends… they're all in it together, covering her ass." My angst against the Latina returned, burning my insides. "She's just doing it again, taking it big this time. That news is a hoax."

Right after what I said, the news anchor choked out another news.

_Breaking news, folks. California Governor Sancho Lopez called out an ambush press conference right this moment. Artie Abrams returns from Long Beach._

_Yes, Joe. "Santana is missing", Governor Lopez confirmed just a few minutes ago. He called an ambush press conference inside the Lopez manor to formally give his statement on the allegations. Let's hear it from him,_

"_It is with my utmost grief and sorrow that I finally confirm to everyone that my daughter, Santana, is missing. Our primary suspect is my daughter's former bodyguard, Noah Puckerman, who had been recently suspended due to his grave neglect of duty. We are seeing retaliation as his motive for this crime. We are appealing to the public, if you have any information on the whereabouts of my daughter Santana or Noah Puckerman, please relay it to the authorities as soon as possible. I am willing to reward anyone with a just compensation for their help. Thank you."_

_Based on our sources, besides being a personal bodyguard, Noah Puckerman was also a former lover of the young Lopez. Others even assumed that the young Lopez must have runaway with her ex-bodyguard and lover, a young love at work. Back at you, Joe._

I could feel my stomach turned upon hearing the news. Her boy toy couldn't kidnap her for sure. I saw how she was in control of everyone around her back in Vegas. It's impossible. At that point my anger and hatred turned into disgust and disbelief.

Boys, girls—she'l probably make out with anything that moves!

How can she live like that? Was that the life of the rich and the famous?

I should have known better. I shouldn't have let my emotions took over that night. I should have known the first time I laid an eyes on her, she'll spell nothing but trouble.

* * *

TBC

* * *

**A/N: (Correction) **Back in** Chapter I, **I mentioned that Santana's mom was at the manor. That was a mistake. I already changed it, thanks.

Also, there will be a Quinntana interaction (finally!) on the next chapter.

As for the Spanish and French lines... I only used online translator so if there's any mistake, I'm sorry about that.

Thanks for the support. Reviews are loved!

-inksandpapers


	4. Chapter 4

This is a **Glee** Quinntana fanfic with mentions of characters from **Pretty Little Liars**, **Grey's Anatomy** and **Buffy the Vampire Slayer**, written in varying first person point of view. Inspired by Dianna Agron's upcoming movie, **The Family**.

**Disclaimer: **All characters mentioned herein belongs to their respective owners. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

**You Spell Trouble**

**Chapter IV**

**Rachel Berry**

I absolutely did not understand why Santana left. But what really hit me was why she didn't tell me anything. She set me aside like I was nothing. I knew we were just friends, and she had no obligation to tell me everything but still… I felt betrayed.

The Lopez manor was in total chaos when no Santana Lopez appeared on the party. As her friend, I was the first to be grilled. Mr. Lopez interrogated me in the most frightening way possible. However, since I have honestly no idea of Santana's plans, he let me go. It was Finn who got the beating.

"Where is my daughter?!" Mr. Lopez yelled at him.

Finn was white as ghost, his hands shaking, his voice trembled in fear. "I…"

"ANSWER ME!"

"I… h-have no idea, s-sir."

"How can you not know? You were standing outside her door!"

"Y-yes, I was there. But—"

"Don't tell me you neglected your duty as well?"

"N-no! I mean… I was there. I was guarding her d-door. But there was, uhm…"

Mr. Schue took his Gloc out. He didn't point it at Finn though. Santana's bodyguard swallowed hard, beads of sweat streamed down his temple.

"S-she asked for water." He said. "N-no, uhm, she asked for glass with ice. She said she needed them as soon as p-possible so I got it for her." That sounded like Santana, alright.

"So you left your post to do a bell boy's job." Finn didn't respond. "And she got out of the house just like that, huh? Tell me!" Mr. Lopez was yelling at everyone inside the room. Nobody answered him. His face was red in rage. I could almost feel the heat emanating from it.

"She used Ms. Berry's car on her way out, the guards didn't notice it was her." One of Mr. Schue's men spoke.

Everyone turned to me. I showed them my keys were inside my purse. "She had my spare key for emergencies."

"And what kind of emergency might that be?" Mr. Schue asked. I eyed him sharply. I was about to answer him but Mr. Torres interfered.

"Now, now. Let's not grill this girl. I have my wife's spare key, and both of my daughters' when they were still living with us. That doesn't mean she had anything to do with it."

I looked at him with thankful eyes. He nodded at me. Santana was right. Mr. Torres was more like a father to her, ready to defend her when things get rough. He was protecting her. Does that mean that he knew something?

* * *

I excuse myself out of the room to call Noah. I had to reassure myself that Santana had no idea about Quinn, and eliminate their location off Santana's possible destination.

Noah didn't answer his phone. So I asked Mike to check his location. He was in Miami and I hoped that he didn't tell Santana about his task. We can't put Quinn in the hot seat again because her second time will be her last.

As for Santana, she was smart enough not to take her phone with her. She did it intentionally so I couldn't easily find her. The thing was, I could still find her.

"I need my car's location, right now."

"_You lost your car?_"

"Not funny, Mike."

"_I'm not kidding. What's happening?_" He was serious.

"Santana ran away. She took my car and we need to find her."

"_She didn't tell you where she's going?_"

My eyes got misty. I felt my heart ached like I had a heartbreak. Even others thought it was impossible for me not to know where she was.

"Just… find her, please?" I pleaded to him. That answered his question.

"_I'll call you as soon as I get something._" He said before hanging up.

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

Not minding the wrecked living room, the beach house was in perfect condition. It was well kept, which was surprising because Faith wasn't obsessive-compulsive. Anyway, my favorite part of the house was the balcony. Standing there gives me a full view of the beach, the ocean. This time of the year was perfect because only people venture out on this cold weather.

It reminded me of my past. Sometimes, I wish our lives had been simple yet remarkable, just like my mom's. She was a humanitarian volunteer in Cambodia. Unfortunately, she died overseas while advocating against malnutrition and human trafficking.

Whatever happened to my family after my mother's death was a shame. At the course of making a difference in the world, my family… they were all corrupted by power. My mom would have been disappointed. I couldn't say she'll be proud of me either. I kept on telling myself that if I distance myself from them, they couldn't influence me. I'd live a simple quiet life. But then again, such life wouldn't make much difference, would it? All I did was work for myself, study for myself, earn for myself. I was as selfish as them, only that I wasn't…

Was it the right decision? I kept on running away from trouble, but it somehow had a way of finding me.

* * *

The night was tranquil, winter breeze chilling my bones. As I went back inside to get warmed, Faith and Sam went completely silent. I heard them laugh not a few seconds ago, so I looked at them suspiciously.

"What?" I asked. They looked like deers caught in the headlight.

Faith shrugged and pretended to read the newspaper. Sam, on the other hand, shook his head oddly and took his phone out.

"I should call Hannah, we haven't heard from her in like… forever." He said. Faith eyed him sharply as he stood up and exited the door.

"You were talking about me, weren't you?"

"No, why should we do that? There's nothing to talk about you." She defended.

I slapped the newspaper down on the table to get her attention.

"What was that about?"

A grin curved on her face. "You really want to know?"

"Of course I do!"

"Okay, remember, you asked for it. I knew you since you were a little kid, Lucy, and I could tell something by simply looking at you."

"What's your point?"

"Point is… our eyes don't lie. They're the windows of our soul and—" She said in a poetic way possible. God, she testing my patience.

"Let's just cut to the chase, Faith. What is it?"

She smiled at me like she figured out the world's greatest mystery. Damn, she's getting on my nerves.

"You're in love with Santana Lopez." I felt the heat from my face, burning it. I opened my mouth but Faith beat me to speak. "…either that or you're still stuck with the memory of Emily."

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

"Are you sure about this?" I asked Puck.

I left the manor to find Quinn. I knew Rachel would continue the search for her. I need not to spell things out for her. She could read me like her favorite novel.

Rachel…

"Of course, I am. Mistake is not in my dictionary."

We were standing beside a small two-storey house in near the beach. It took Puck almost the whole day to track Quinn and later watched over the house where she was purportedly staying.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

If he was right, then I could finally see her again. I could make things right and… maybe start anew. I wish she'd let me. I wish I can make up for everything that I did. Excitement filled my insides. That was better than the rush you get from driving more than a hundred miles an hour, or beating someone senseless.

I had to tell Rachel.

"Give me your phone."

"Hold on," Puck took his phone out and checked it. "Damn, there's no reception."

"Are you sure that's working?"

"Yeah, I called Melissa an hour ago." He moved around a little with his phone up. "I'll just try to look for some signal." He said as he walked down the road. "Don't start the party without me, okay?"

Yeah, right, like I could wait. I wanted to call Rachel before I go in and push my luck, but I guess the world was telling me to go right on. I'll tell her later. I'll definitely will.

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

Out of desperation, Mr. Lopez and his security group decided to out to the media that it was Noah who abducted Santana. They had to do it, or else people will assume that they were actually clueless—which they actually were.

While waiting for Mike's report, I did some research on Quinn. To my surprise, there was nothing about her besides her school records from Dalton Academy in Reno. Based on her documents, she was born and raised in Reno, Nevada, an only daughter of Judy and Russell Fabray who both died in a car accident when she was five years old. She was left to the care of her grandmother.

She also had an application for scholarship at University of Nevada, but it was still pending to the board because she lacked some requirements.

I had a feeling that there was more to her. So, my little research turned into an extensive investigation. I had a genealogy course back in college, and such gave me an access to all genealogical sources in US. I even asked Sugar for assistance. I also did some calls at hospitals, schools, and government offices.

However, there was absolutely nothing about her. It turned out that the documents in Dalton Academy were all forged. Judy and Russell didn't die because there never was a Judy or a Russell. There was no Fabray everywhere.

Legally speaking, Quinn Fabray does not exist.

I never hit a dead end before.

It was time to call Brittany.

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

I was speechless for a couple of seconds. My face burned and my heart pounded. "What?! No! That's… you are mistaken, Faith. You both are! That's… insane, absolutely ridiculous. You're out of your mind!"

Faith laughed. "Whatever you say, Fabray." She stood up and patted my shoulder. "I'll leave you to your thoughts for now."

"Hey!"

She headed for the door and looked over her shoulder before she exit. "Remember, eyes don't lie, Lucy!"

And she's out of my sight.

How could she say that? That girl basically ruined my life. Seeing her will undoubtedly make my blood boil. If ever given the chance, I would slap her senseless and at least give her a taste of what she made me feel.

Although, it was true that I saw Emily in her. They both made me feel miserable, I know, but what happened between the two of us was long over. It was just Santana.

I breathed deeply.

Who was I kidding? Faith was right. Thoughts of Emily were still haunting me. I managed to forget them for a while, but seeing Santana tore those wounds open, refreshing the pain, bringing everything back.

Emily still held part of me.

The world fucked me up.

* * *

I went downstairs to pour myself a glass of water.

So what if Santana was missing? I didn't care even if hell swallowed her alive. I actually think that'll be a favor for everyone—one less evil in the world.

Part of me wished she was somewhere being held captive for real and tortured until she begged and asked for forgiveness. She needed a taste of her own medicine to make her realize what kind of evil she was. The world had to remind her that she's not a god who could play with people's lives.

The other part… I don't know.

I went to the backyard and sat on the stairs.

I can't entertain any emotion other than anger. All I wanted was revenge. I don't believe there's anything else. Even if we meet at the different time… I don't think so. I don't think I could stand to breathe the same air with her.

"This is a nice place."

A familiar voice came from my left.

My head snapped towards that direction and the world stopped. My body froze and my mind went blank. I stayed like that for as long as I could remember. She wasn't looking back at me, instead, she was staring at the yard, scanning the area. She looked like a normal person, chatting with her neighbor, thinking about the weather, or what she'll cook for dinner.

Her hair was tied up in a neat pony tail like a cheerleader. That gave me better view of her face, her lips, her eyes. She was wearing a leather jacket but even so her figure was unmistakably perfect.

She was perfect.

I even wished it wasn't Santana Lopez standing by the wall… But it was her.

The world finally continued to revolve.

"It's small and shabby but pretty cozy." She stood away from the wall and stepped forward. "Plus, the ocean made it a bit nostalgic." She walked with grace. How was that even possible?

My emotions returned and it formed tears in my eyes. How did she find me? How dare she stand there like nothing happened? Had she lost her soul that she became insensitive to everything around her?

My hand shook in fury. I took a gun hidden under the step and held it firmly. I no longer understand what's happening inside my head but I continued to move anyway. I let my emotions took over.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

I was so proud that I found her. I couldn't keep that smile off my face as I turned to face her. I bet she was surprised as hell.

As I turned, however, a silenced 9mm greeted me, pointed straight to my face. I looked at her eyes but it was different. Her beautiful hazel eyes were painted with a darker shade. There was no hint of fear or anxiety. It was as if her soul was sucked out of her.

"Wow, this is a—"

"Surprise?" She cut.

It was painful to see her that way. I couldn't help but feel the guilt. Did I do that? Was that my fault? Her voice was still the same though—an angelic harmony inside my head.

I kept my smile on. I didn't know what to say. She did surprise me. I didn't see this coming.

"What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

She asked monotonously. What happened to her? What happened to the Quinn I met?

"I…"

"You think you could mess with me again?"

I get it. She was mad at me. I already expected that. No one was able to explain to her anything. She was used and dumped away. We didn't think of her. I was the priority.

"Why can't you answer? Truth hurts, huh?"

I closed my eyes and listened closely to her voice.

"What are you doing? Look at me!" She yelled.

A smile curved on her lips. "This is better. I could hear your voice, and I could just picture you smile at me." Truthfully, I was mad at myself. My selfishness turned the angel into a monster. It was entirely fault.

"Don't play with me! What are you doing here?!" She yelled louder.

I noticed how her voice broke a little. I opened my eyes and I stare straight into her eyes.

"I came to apologize."

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

Apologize? Bullshit. I laughed. I won't fall for those words ever again. "What makes you think I will believe you? After what you did to me, you really think I will trust you again?"

"You asked, so I answered. If you don't believe me, then just pull the trigger."

She was down playing games with me, I get it.

"Don't try me, Santana Lopez. I don't miss."

"I'm not trying you, Quinn. I want you to do it."

I wanted to pull the trigger. I wanted to end it right then and there, but I couldn't. "Stop playing games with me!" I yelled once more. I think I got on her nerve by then.

"You really think I came all the way from the other side of the country just to play games with you?" It was her turn to shout back. Her smile was gone.

"Then why? Why did you find me? Why are you here?!"

"I already said it! I want to apologize, okay? I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble. I'm sorry for hurting you, for ruining your life. I'm sorry for—"

"Stop!" I was shaking but I kept the gun pointed at her. "Stop it! Stop lying! I don't want to hear it!"

I couldn't handle it. I heard those words before and I can't be deceived by them again. I was once a fool but I already learned my lesson. I wasn't Rihanna. It's over.

"Lucy," Faith called out from the door but I kept my eyes on the Latina before me. I think I cried, maybe. I don't know. I didn't care. "Stop." Faith Continued.

I heard her walked closer to me. She held my arm and whispered to my ear.

"She's not Emily. Let it go."

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

I felt Quinn's anger. If looks could kill I would've died a painful death under her gaze. Despite my effort to make up for the troubles I caused her, she was determined to hate me. It was coming from her soul. I sensed it.

Was I that unforgivable?

Perhaps, I was not made to be in the lighter part of the world. It's as if I was too evil to make even one good thing for once in my life.

But coming from Quinn… it was different. It actually fucking hurts.

"Lucy," Someone spoke from behind the door. She walked out and approached Quinn.

Lucy? I was pretty sure I heard her call Quinn Lucy. I thought her name was Quinn Fabray. Nicknames… maybe they were close. They looked like it. Damn…

The lady uttered someone named Emily, and Quinn finally took the gun away. She was crying. Why was she crying? Was everything my fault?

"Is this how you ask for forgiveness, Santana?" She said. The green eyed monster inside my awakened.

"I didn't know you fancy older women, Quinn."

The lady took the gun off Quinn's hand and pointed it back to my face. Quinn was surprised but she didn't say anything.

"I take it you're already aware of the nationwide manhunt initiated by your father, right? And that your partner-in-crime is wanted for the crime of kidnapping."

I didn't know, and honestly, I didn't care. Maybe that's why she's so mad at me. She thought I was setting her up again.

I was about to snap back but someone came in, again. It was some blonde guy with an obnoxiously trouty mouth. His eyes widened as he looked at me.

Wait, he looked familiar.

"It's…" He pointed at me, panting. "…the Shadow thugs. They're headed this way."

No, no, no. How did they know where to find me? Damn, where's Puck when you need him.

"No, way." I whispered.

They all turned back to me. It was Quinn who broke the momentary silence.

"So, that's plan, huh? Because I escaped your hands the first time, you're setting me up again?! What is wrong with you? What have I done to deserve this?!"

The lady kept her away from me. How can I convince them otherwise?

"No! That's not why I came! I just wanted to apologize, was that too hard to accept?"

"If it's coming from you, yes!" Quinn responded.

And I just… lost it. So, that's how people saw me. I'm Santana Lopez, an absolute evil walking around the planet. There's no point in trying to correct whatever I have done wrong because in the end, I'm still Santana, the evil bitch who does nothing good.

It's just pointless.

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

Time had never passed by so slow. Mike hadn't reported back and Puck was nowhere. I had never been so disconnected and helpless. Moments later, my phone rang.

I wished it was Puck or Santana, but it was neither. But I wasn't disappointed.

"Berry."

"_Rach!_" It was Brittany. Thank god, some good news.

"Hey, B."

"_I heard San's missing_."

Not that subject again. "Yeah, she left."

"_Can I help_?"

Since Brittany was in the CIA, I was sure that she'll find her in no time. But Santana wouldn't want that.

"Thanks, B, but…" I heard her sighed on the other side.

"_I understand. Anyway, I already have the report about Quinn_." A sudden change in the atmosphere occurred. Brittany's voice turned serious—she became serious. "_May I ask why are you investigating her_?"

That's odd. Britt never asked us whenever we inquire about someone. "I just got curious. But it wasn't a big deal. She's just another…"

"_Well, whatever it is, she's not just anyone, Rach. She's someone_."

"What do you mean?"

"_I'll send the file to you, but it's classified, okay_?"

Now she's scaring me.

"Of course. Everything you sent is classified, Britt. Thanks."

"_Okay._ _Please tell Santana to be careful. You, too, Rachel._"

As soon as we hanged up, I checked my e-mail. It could take a while before Brittany could send it. Why was she so careful about Quinn? What does she mean by saying Quinn was someone?

My anticipation was cut short by a message in my phone.

_**From: Chan, M.**_

_Car was left at Park n' Fly near Long Beach Airport. _

_Checked the surveillance, she took a flight to Miami at 7:05pm. ETA is 9:00am. _

She was in Miami. I held my breath. She went to find Quinn, too. I hastily called Noah but he was still out of coverage area. Seriously, where was he?

I hoped Santana was with him. That part of the country was not an ideal place for anyone affiliated with La Sombra. Together, at least I'd be a little assured that they'll be safe, or that they will do everything to keep each other safe.

Santana… why didn't she tell me about it?

I opened my laptop and downloaded the file Brittany sent me. I had to double check the file because what Britt sent had a different name on it.

It was filed under immigrants, with initials LQF.

Curiosity got the best of me so instead of confirming it with Brittany, I read it.

I dialed Noah again.

Quinn was, indeed, no ordinary girl.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

The enthusiasm I had earlier faded. I just stood there and waited for someone to pull the trigger. If I was as terrible as they thought, then perhaps I did not deserve to live.

I ignored them as they argued about something.

"Sam, take point. If they come any closer you let me know." The older lady ordered the guy with a trouty mouth. "As for you, Lucy, take my bike and leave."

Quinn turned to her with a violent look on her face. She still looked lovely though.

"What? No! I'm not leaving! I haven't—"

"I think you already made your point. I'll take it from here." The lady turned back to me.

Yeah, she made her point. I was insensitive. I was terrible. I was evil.

"What will you do, kill her? I'm not leaving you!"

God, their romance was sickening. I felt a little nauseated, my head got a little fuzzy. They had this effect on me, wow.

"I made a promise, Lucy, leave now!"

Their voices were echoing inside my head. "Fucking leave! You heard her, go the fuck out!" I yelled at them.

"Shut the hell up!" They yelled back in chorus.

In the middle of our ruckus, came Puck. I saw him through my peripheral. The lady saw my eyes moved and followed my gaze. She shushed Quinn they both leaned against the wall, with the gun still pointing at me.

Puck walked closer, his eyes on his phone, hand scratching the back of his head. "Rachel called and she said something about—" He stopped at the sight of the lady pointing a gun at me.

He aimed for his gun but the older lady ended his pace. She shot Puck straight to his chest. Blood gushed out of his lips. I wanted aide him as he fell down the grass but the lady pointed the gun back at me. I was dumbfounded for a moment. I opened my mouth but no words came out.

Puck laid motionless on the ground. I let the silent tears out.

She shot Puck; she shot my friend, dead.

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

I was no amateur when it comes to guns. I could enter a shooting ground without ear plugs since I was trained even with loud, high powered firearms. It was, however, different seeing someone die right in front of you.

Faith shot Puckerman without hesitation. I saw Santana and the way she reacted… it was a little heartbreaking. She was crying inside at the sight of her bodyguard, her former lover, laying lifeless on the ground.

She stood still though. Santana kept her posture. She didn't falter; she didn't break down. She hid the pain that was visible in her eyes. At that moment, I felt somewhat… sorry for her.

"Y-you shot him."

"Yes, I am that serious. Now, go Lucy. Take the bike." Faith's voice had changed. She was dead serious. I didn't want to leave, but I had no idea why I should stay. Faith would be fine by herself, there's no doubt about it. Still, I couldn't simply leave.

I glanced at Santana as I walked back inside the house. She had her eyes locked on Faith's.

"What are you going to do? Kill her?"

"Emily is not here, Lucy. She's gone. Now, go."

Of course Emily's not here. Why would she… No, Santana wasn't Emily. I didn't see her that way. Faith's mistaken.

"Don't make this hard for me, Lucy. Go and take the painting. Now!"

My mother's painting. That was the only thing inside the house that Faith loved the most. She even once said that, my mom's painting was what kept the house standing still.

I didn't say anything.

"…and Lucy," She said without looking. "It's really nice to see you again."

She spoke as if we were never going to see each other again. Was it goodbye? I continued inside without saying anything.

What if she planned to kill Santana? She already killed her friend, killing another would be a piece of cake. I couldn't take that. I may have hated her, but I didn't want Santana to be killed either.

That was the only time Faith frightened me. She seemed different. The fact that she could kill like it was not a big deal was a big part of it. I've never seen her that way. Well, that's because there never was a chance.

I grabbed my jacket upstairs and took the painting off the wall. There was a click followed by sound of gears turning and then a final click. I looked around but silence greeted me. I shrugged it off and took the painting off its frame, rolled it and placed it on plastic tube.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

As soon as Quinn was out of sight, I let out a small laugh.

"What is this, a payback for a bankruptcy?"

"Don't talk to me like you know anything."

"Of course I do. I could hear through our manor's walls." I shook my head. "She didn't know, does she? Quinn—Lucy, whatever her name is, she had no idea what you really are, Faith." I spat at her.

A smug look was painted on her face. She took the gun down, away from me.

"She didn't have to know anything about it."

"Yeah, never mind that you're worse than me."

I figured it out as soon as I saw Faith. Quinn had no idea that her friend had the same feather as my father's, worse even.

"Oh, that I am—both worse and better."

"How can you live through that? She looked up to you not knowing exactly what you did for a living."

Faith laughed. "You lied to her, you used her. You're not exactly the person to lecture about truth and lies!"

"She didn't know me, but you—she thought she knew you. She trusted you!"

"What is it to you anyway? You're just another spoiled brat messing around. Lucy—she's different. She's everything you're not."

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

"You two knew each other?" I asked Faith. The revelation stunned me. They conversed like they were old time friends turned enemies.

They both looked at me. I stepped away from the corpse that was Puckerman as I walked closer. I was behind Santana by then.

"Lucy—what are you doing here? Go! It's no longer safe in here!"

"Oh, she's a piece of information I could live without, really." Santana spoke. I ignored her and stared at Faith.

"So, you do know each other."

"No, Lucy, I just…"

"Yeah, and we were planning to set you up, actually."

Faith returned to Santana. "Shut the hell up!"

"No—talk. I want to hear it."

The Latina turned and laughed at me. "Wait, is that right? You want to hear me talk?"

I took a step back. Her gaze made me feel uncomfortable. I tried to ignore her sarcasm. Faith walked a bit closer and pleaded to me.

"You can't listen to her, Lucy. She already lied to you, remember?"

"We both know lying is not absolute, isn't it, Faith?" Santana said.

They knew each other. I just been through hell, I couldn't take this anew. "What are you talking about? Faith?" I looked at her, not angered, rather hurt.

My former trainer didn't say anything. The look in her eyes already gave her.

_Eyes don't lie._

"Let me do the honor." Santana said. I let her continue. "Once, there was a multinational corporation name LeHanne International. At front, they dealt with developing and manufacturing medicines for which they used international outreach programs to promote themselves. Under the table, they manufacture various illegal drugs to be distributed internationally."

"Where is this going?"

"You just wait, princess, I'm about to go there."

"Just cut to the chase already!"

"Lucy…" Faith called out but I ignored her.

Santana crossed her arms and continued. "Fine, then. Faith was the supposed to take over of that corporation until it's collapsed sometime when I was having my second black belt—that's for karate, I think."

"You're what?" I could not believe it.

"Faith LeHanne was an heir to a multinational drug dealer."

And just like that my world came crashing down. She was the only person left that I could trust and yet, she didn't fail to lie to me as well. Was I really lie-worthy? Didn't I deserve some truth in my life for once?

"Listen, that was in the past, Lucy, Long before we met. I didn't tell you about it because I wasn't proud to be born to drug dealers. That was a dark chapter of my life, and I've moved on and live differently since I met your mom, and you."

"Yeah, and that was in the _past_. Surely, you don't believe people can change, now, can they? I mean, look at me. I surely cannot." Santana spat.

It was a lot to take in. If I didn't learn about Faith's past, I wouldn't have questioned her integrity. Santana had a point, but as of that moment, I couldn't decide whether or not I believed her.

I shook my head as I stepped back; tears were on the verge of falling.

"Lucy…" Faith called out once more. I didn't look at her. Instead, I run for the bike and left.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

The fading roar of Faith's bike echoed in my head. It was the same sound of Quinn, running away from me again. Maybe we weren't really meant to meet each other.

Wow, I messed Quinn's life but mine's fucked up as well. I went here to make something right but I made things worse. I deceived my best friend, I lost a friend, my dad's all Cali heights on me, and my life's nearing its end.

Most of all… I lost Quinn again—this time, for good. I gave up. If I ever get to live through this, I'll forget about her and just live as how Santana Lopez does.

"That was quite a show."

Faith put her gun down. "Yeah, want some coffee?"

I raised an eyebrow. What the fuck was wrong with her?

"What?"

"We have to wait, so we might as well enjoy waiting." She opened the door and held it open as she waited for me.

"That's just it? You killed my friend, you lied to Quinn and let her go. You think I'll go grab a coffee with you?"

"Oh, please. If I want to kill your friend I would've shoot him in between his eyes, where he couldn't wear a protective vest." She rolled her eyes before she finally left me—us outside.

I checked Puck's pulse and she was right. He was still alive. I tore pulled his shirt up and indeed saw him wear a bullet proof vest. This bastard got me.

* * *

I followed Faith inside where she was already stirring her mug.

"So, that's your plan? You want those men to see me here so they would assume that you abducted me. It would make sense since you have a motive—revenge."

She didn't answer. Instead, she added another cube of sugar to her coffee, ignoring what I just said.

"Just so you know, I'm not sorry for what I did back there."

"I didn't expect you to be. Besides, I guess it was time for her to know."

My eyes wandered as I listened. Almost in every wall, there was a picture of a young blonde girl with the most beautiful hazel eyes. I assumed it was Quinn but the name underneath was different.

_Lucie._

There was one picture where she was held by an older blonde, her mom, I guess. She had brown eyes, and exceptionally lovely lips, but they both had the same smile. They looked happy together—especially Quinn.

"That's Quinn and her mom. Quite a charmer, both of them."

I turned back to Faith. "Don't tell me you had the hots for her mom."

"Actually, I did. But she was more of a mom to me than anything else."

"You _did_?"

Faith looked away. "Are you interested in my story, or Lucy's?"

"You kept on calling her Lucy."

"Does it matter?" She laughed. "You're a walking dilemma, Santana, and Lucy… she wanted a quiet life. You're like fire and ice; night and day. Together, you'll become a walking disaster." She pulled a chair and sat on it. "You'll end up hurting her, each other."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's obvious, Lopez. Why did you come here? To personally give your apologies? Yeah, right. You would go through such trouble just to say sorry to everyone you messed with."

I felt my face blazed a little. "Shut up, you don't know me."

"Oh, I don't and I do not intend to. But your eyes say it all."

"You're hallucinating. Is that what drugs did to you?" I laughed a little. She didn't answer though. She stood up and peaked outside.

"It's almost time. Get your ass out of here, now."

I stood up, confused. "You want me to leave? I thought we're waiting for them?"

"We were, but they're running late for the show."

"For what?"

"The house," She looked at me. "It's about to blow."

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

It had been years since I last rode a motorcycle but I managed to run at least a mile away. Honestly, I didn't know where else to go. Faith was my last resort, and without her, I had no one else. I could try to go back in Reno since the spotlight had already been passed to someone else.

That wasn't in my mind though. I was contemplating on Faith's concealed past and Santana's words.

No, wait, I-I wasn't thinking about Santana. Or her words.

They didn't matter.

Every after couple of minutes, I stopped to rest. I was not a fan of these big bikes. They're heavy, they're loud, and it's freaking cold outside. I mean, really cold.

I stopped by a convenience store to buy some water when we heard a loud explosion.

My heart skipped a beat.

Santana.

It was far from where I was but I saw how it illuminated part of the night sky. I felt a jolt to myself. Quickly, I got on the bike, forgetting about my change and run back to the beach house. The bike run like the wind and I was back to Palmento in no time.

Most of the house was reduced into ashes. The second floor was complete gone. There was fire in some places. A cloud of smoke loomed over the area.

A couple of people were watching it burned down, one of them seemed to call 911. I hurried and went around back. There I saw the body of Santana's bodyguard laid under some debris. I tried calling out Faith but there was no response. There was no sign of anyone else inside.

Maybe they went out in time?

I coughed hard as I inhaled some smoke from the burning post. I was on my way out to the road when one of the partly broken windows burst open. Looking out, coughing, was Santana. She had some bruises but she seemed fine. I think she didn't notice me standing outside as she pulled herself up and jumped off the window. She laid down on the ground, catching her breath. I wasn't used to seeing her so helpless.

I stood still, not sure what to do. Should help her? She made hell out of my life. If I leave her, that would make me equally evil, right? Ugh.

"Get up, come on." I said as I tried to pull her up but she broke free.

"Go away." She said. That came as a surprise.

She really had the guts to shove me away? Blood gushed out of her lips as she coughed hard. She wiped it with her unwounded arm, the other was badly bruised. I was about to come to her aid but my feet stopped on its own accord.

_Go away. _

Her voice echoed in my head. Did she really mean that? One second, she was pleading to me, the next, she became this hard-headed snob person who didn't seem to care.

"You want to watch me bleed to death, is that why you came back?"

"Unlike you, I don't fancy watching people die."

"So, you'd fancy watching me do something else then?" She smirked at her remark. God, she was so full of herself.

"I'd rather die. W-where's Faith?" I said, finding no other reason to return. Why the hell did I come back anyway?

Despite her condition, Santana managed to laugh. "Oh, I'm to die for, believe me." She wiped some blood off her nose before she continued. "…and Faith? Really? You're worried for her?"

Yeah, she had a point. I wasn't worried about Faith for two reasons: First, she's Faith, she had always had a way out of anything; secondly, she's Faith, and she lied to me as well.

The sounds of siren were close by and fast approaching. Police and firemen will be here soon.

"If you don't want my help, then fine. Good luck with Miami police." I retaliated. I didn't wait for her response. Instead, I walked away, leaving her behind.

I was a little mad at myself. Why the hell did I return? I wasn't able to think right after hearing the explosion. I just rushed back there, and for what? To watch it burn down? To check if Faith's alright? No. It was neither. At that moment, there was another person who came into mind.

Damn it.

I walked right back at where Santana was seating. She had her bruised arm covered by a torn piece of cloth she was wearing. I pulled her up by her free arm once more, harder this time.

"Watch it! What the fuck's wrong with you?" She didn't push me away that time. Instead, she hanged on to my shoulder.

"Shut up."

"I knew you can't resist me." She whispered without looking at me. Did she just think aloud?

I pretended not to hear what she just said. I mean, what would I say? That she's the first that that came to my mind? That my subconscious was feeding on thoughts of her? Nope, I definitely won't say that.

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

She hanged on my shoulder, her right leg limping. "I said I'm sorry." She repeated, with her face turned to me by then. I could see her through my peripheral view. If I turn to her, our faces would be barely an inch away from each other.

Fuck.

Her eyes, as she said those words, showed sincerity. I felt her soul touched mine at that moment. We never had been so connected like that before.

Eyes don't lie, right.

"Let's talk about that later."

We reached the bike in less than a couple of minutes. I handed her the helmet and she looked at me with her I-have-witty-but-rude-something-to-say face.

"You're gonna have me ride a bike? In my condition?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you prefer to walk?"

We stared each other down for a couple of seconds. Not even her hypnotizing eyes, or her luscious lips could make me back down, no.

"Fine, but you have to drive safely. I am way too valuable to—"

"Wear this." I handed her my jacket, and, yeah, I intended to cut her short speech.

When she didn't take my jacket, I just put it around her shoulder and I got on the bike. I think she tried to decipher why I did what I did that's why it took her a while before she followed suit. I was trying to do the same. My body moved on its own—not saying it was against my will though. I don't know.

An arm clutch around my waist as she got on the bike. She moved closer to me, so close I could feel her breath against my nape. The warmth of her body embraced my soul. I forgot the last time someone got close to me like this. Thank god, she was behind me or she would have seen my face turned red.

Damn humiliating. Why did she have that effect on me?

"Where are you taking me?" Her voice brought me back to reality.

I turned the engine on. I was lost before I left the beach house. I had no idea where to go or what to do. Truth be told, having Santana with me gave me directions. A blessing in disguise, it might be.

I looked over my shoulder. "Just shut up and let me drive."

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry, this chapter is shorter than the others. I had a rough time writing these past few days because of an inevitable unfortunate event that happened.

Thanks for the support.

**Reviews** are most definitely loved!

- inksandpapers


	5. Chapter 5

This is a **Glee** Quinntana fanfic with mentions of characters from **Pretty Little Liars**, **Grey's Anatomy** and **Buffy the Vampire Slayer**, written in varying first person point of view. Inspired by Dianna Agron's upcoming movie, **The Family**.

**Disclaimer: **All characters mentioned herein belongs to their respective owners. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

**You Spell Trouble**

**Chapter V**

**Santana Lopez**

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside the window. The sun was up but the winter breeze cools the weather. A smell recently mowed grass filled the room. Outside was a row of wooden fences, fancy Bermuda grass, and a bright blue sky. It was peaceful, except for the pain on my arm and leg.

My wounds were cleaned and treated well. I had a change of clothes, too. I was in some sort of hospital gown. My clothes, my mother's pendant! Out of panic, I looked around and strained my already injured right foot.

"Fuck!"

Damn, it hurts.

"You shouldn't move that much." Quinn spoke as she stood by the door.

When did she get in?

"The nurse said you need to rest."

"Where are we?"

"It's some sort of a clinic." She moved away from the door and walked towards my direction. She handed me my pendant. "I figured you'd looking for this."

Seeing the necklace gave me a bit of relief. It was the only thing I could call mine for now. My mom, I wonder what she'll say if she found out what I did.

I let out a sigh.

"That's one lucky nurse." Quinn didn't say anything but she crossed her eyebrows. I smiled as I put the necklace back around my neck. "Well, she changed my clothes, so she had a view of perfection."

The blonde was silent for a few seconds.

"Don't worry, you can change my clothes next time since I don't think I could do it myself sometime soon." I would've winked at her if she was looking at me, but she wasn't. Instead, she looked out of the window.

I don't believe this. Why won't my charm work on her?

"Actually, I changed your clothes. There was only one nurse and she had to do something else so she instructed me to do it on her behalf."

"Oh, then—"

"And sorry, but, I've seen better."

That's impossible.

"Really?" I made sure she saw how I looked at her from head to toe. "…because you don't look like someone who got laid in a long time."

I was pretty sure I saw her face turned red. I mean it though. Beautiful was an understatement for her but she didn't seem to be an in-a-relationship type of person. Except for that Emily person Faith mentioned before.

"Then again, it's okay because I'll let you do me—" What did I just say? "I mean, do my clothes since… my arm is… I'm injured." I mentally slapped myself.

Quinn laughed. Thank god she did. "Are you always like that? So full of yourself. You really think you can make anyone fall for you?"

"That shouldn't be question, you know."

She rolled her eyes and she headed for the door.

"Quinn…" Her name slipped out of my lips. My subconscious was dying to call her out. Even I was surprised. Her hazel eyes glanced my way and I swore part of me melted. "Thank you and… I'm sorry."

That stopped her from leaving.

"You really came to apologize?"

"I did. It may come as a surprise, but that's the reason why I came."

She eyes me sharply. "You left your home in chaos, and had your friend killed, all for an apology? Don't mess with me, Santana Lopez, or I might think you have fallen in love with me."

My cheeks must've burned. I felt the heat all over my face. I opened my mouth to respond but I found no words to say. I didn't say she was right. I don't fall in love, okay? No, Santana Lopez didn't have any feelings. That's impossible.

I laughed instead. "Love is not in my dictionary." She shrugged and I continued. "Besides, Puck wasn't dead."

"No, Faith shot him. You were there"

I shook my head. "You're a target shooter too, aren't you? If you want to kill someone, where would you shoot him? In the head, right? Faith spared him. She just wanted to scare us."

Her expression changed. She was probably contemplating on Faith's actions.

"She wanted you out of the scene, so when the Shadow men arrive, they won't find you with me. She framed herself and saved you."

I could hear the gears in her head turn.

"It was a perfect plan because she had a motive. What a smart ass."

Quinn was still silent. Maybe she was thinking about Faith, and how until the end, she tried to save her.

If everything went just as how Faith planned it, Puck should be causing confusion back in California. I hope he's okay. As for Rachel… Damn, she might tie him upside down just to get information from him. I'd be dead before I could open my mouth once we meet again.

* * *

_**Ten Hours Ago**_

**Quinn Fabray**

After hours of driving, with Santana almost passed out on my back, we arrived in Cooper City. I took her to the hospital but someone named Hannah told me to go to a small clinic nearby instead to avoid getting too much attention. Cynical, I was, but her words made me trust her.

"Just have faith." She said.

It turned out that she and the owner of the clinic were friends with Faith. I figured that was Faith's way of keeping my mom's wishes, keeping me safe.

The clinic was a couple of blocks away from Cooper City Medical hospital, and it seemed way safer because there was no one inside besides the nurse in-charge. As soon as she saw me, her expression changed. She closed the blinds—she actually closed the office. Santana limped beside me as the nurse escorted us towards the farthest room.

"Lay her down the bed."

Santana was barely awake by that time. I take it her body was already numb in pain. She looked so helpless.

"Will she be okay?"

"We'll do our best. Why don't you change her clothes? There's a gown inside that drawer." I looked at Santana, then back at the nurse, surprised. "Me? W-wait—"

"Oh, I'm sure you've seen each other naked a lot of times." The nurse said with a bored look on her face.

"What?! No, that's a…" I laughed my nerve off. Since her expression didn't change, I took it that she was serious. "D-do I have to strip her of everything?"

"Of course. She's wounded, she's limping, and she has burns everywhere. I'm sure you want the best for your girlfriend right? Now strip her while I prepare everything else."

"S-she's not my—" I stuttered.

The nurse's phone then rang. It was some doctor, maybe the one who comes to the same clinic. "Hello?"

I shouldn't have returned to that house. I should have just driven to the airport and flew to New York. If I did, I wouldn't have to take care of the very person whom I loathed. The world really had a way of fucking my life.

Santana was unconscious. Thank god, I wouldn't have to do it with her sneering at me. With utmost care, I took the scissors and cut her ruined shirt.

I couldn't help but look at her as the scissors cut her shirt open; from her perfectly firmed abs, up her torso, to her perfectly rounded breasts barely hidden by a black lace bra, her smooth skin glistened in both blood and sweat.

It took me forever before I realized that I was actually staring with my mouth half hanging.

She was really a stunner.

Around her neck was a silver necklace with a pretty pendant. It was a cherry on top of a luscious, mouth watering cake. As much as I it hurts to admit, I'd have to confess that she looked perfect in every angle.

Damn, was I thankful that she was asleep.

Despite the picturesque that was Santana, her wounds were undeniably visible. Her right arm was badly bruised, so was her right leg. She had burn marks almost everywhere but only her right arm took the beating.

Hastily, I dealt with the rest of her clothing before I lose myself. I had never lusted over someone that way before. No, not lust. I just admired her, that's all.

* * *

The doctor came a little past eleven o'clock in the evening. It was the same lady whom we met at the hospital.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Hannah Marin." She introduced herself. Her blonde hair flown smoothly down her shoulders, her blue eyes staring at me. "Thank you for trusting me earlier."

Was she the same Hannah Sam mentioned before?

"Thank you for letting us in. How's…" I wasn't sure what to call Santana. She's not a friend, definitely not my girlfriend, and I couldn't say acquaintance or enemy either.

"She's fine. I had to re-stitch her right—"

"Re-stitch? You mean she had previous wounds?"

She stopped for a moment before she responded.

"Yes, on her right hand. But it's okay now. She has first to second degree burns but none of those are fatal. As for her ankle, she just sprained it. Nothing too serious. Her vitals are good. With a goodnight sleep, she'll be good to go after a day."

"One day? Won't she need more rest?"

"Yes, I would suggest that, but given the situation, I think it is better that you leave Florida as soon as possible." She obviously watched the news. However, she seemed too invested in our case. Her blue eyes turned away as she excused herself.

Santana was still asleep when I entered the room. She looked peaceful. If I didn't know her, I'd assume she was just some pretty girl who lost her way. Part of me wished of that.

I sat on the wooden chair near the bed and saw the poster tube I brought. I took my mom's painting out of it, the only thing I had except for the clothes on my back. As I retrieved it, however, I noticed some marking at the back. I rolled it out with its back facing me.

And I faced the world.

* * *

_**Present Day**_

**Rachel Berry**

To say I was worried was an understatement. I sat on the waiting area of John Hue Hospital where they took Noah. Mr. Lopez and Mr. Schue were the first inside his room to interrogate right after the doctor cleared him.

While waiting for my turn, I called Mike to check on their search for Santana.

"Hey."

"_Rachel, I'm sorry, but we haven't found her yet_." There was sadness in his voice. Tears rolled down my face as I absorbed what he was trying to tell me. "_We're doing the best we can though. I actually asked Sugar to personally go to Miami. We have to do everything so, we will."_

"Thanks, Mike." I wiped the tears. I had to stay strong.

I should have known better. I should've noticed that Santana was up to something, so these things didn't happen. If I did she won't be with that liar, that manipulator. I wonder how she can live a life of lies.

At the corner of my eye, I saw both Mr. Lopez and Mr. Schue walked out of Noah's room. I hurried towards that direction without looking back at the adults.

"Hey," I yelled at him. He was already awake, munching on some nasty hospital food. He had bandages around his chest, otherwise he looked fine. He smiled at me. "Do you ever stop eating?"

He choked on something that looked like porridge.

"Hey, I haven't eaten since yesterday!"

"Whatever. They said you were shot. What happened? Where's Santana?"

He wiped his chin as his eyes scanned the room, probably to check for any recording device. "I don't know… I'm sorry. I thought you already told her about Quinn, so when she called me, I said I found her in Miami."

I couldn't blame Noah. His loyalty will forever be with Santana, the same way I keep my loyalty to her. I listened carefully.

"I was sure she was staying in Palmento Bay. I scouted the area for a day and saw her with someone that looked familiar."

"Familiar? Who is it?"

"It was someone who had been in the manor way back in time. It's Leanne, I think."

"Faith? Faith LeHanne?"

"Yeah, that! Mr. Schue guessed it as well. Anyway, I tried to call you and since there was no reception in the area, I left Santana for a while." My eyes widened in shock. One thing that eased my mind was the thought that they were together at all times. "I know, I know! Please don't yell at me, my ears still hurt from the explosion. Anyway, she went inside and next thing I know, that Faith was pointing a gun at her before she shot me."

"And you have no idea where she is right now?"

He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Rach." He reached for a glass of water and drank it. "I didn't notice Quinn though."

"Of course, they were protecting her."

I knew it. She may have run away from home but she still had her father's mechanisms. A great phony.

Noah looked at me confusedly. "Why would they do that?"

"Can't you remember what I told you over the phone?"

He shook his head once more. Maybe the explosion caused him to lose some memories. Things are running out of hand. We need help.

"Where are you going?" He asked as I stood up.

"I don't know, but we have to find Santana. She could be with Faith or Quinn—Lucie. Either way, she's in danger."

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

"Here, wear these." Quinn said as she tossed a shirt and a pair of jeans on my bed. It felt like I slept all day but my body still hurts.

"Aren't you going to help me?"

She looked back at me seriously. "You're not incapacitated. You can do it yourself." She rolled her eyes and sat on the chair.

"You're going to watch me change?"

"The bathroom's over there." She pointed to the other door. Well, she may have a point but she didn't have to say it that way. She was extra snappy. I wonder why.

I picked the clothes and stood from the bed. The hospital gown was irritatingly smooth and itchy. I was at least thankful that I'll get to have a change of clothes.

After what seemed like forever, I came out of the bathroom with an ill-fitting shirt and a not-so-bad hand me down jeans. I wasn't sure if that was a joke or what.

I sighed.

"Can we go to the mall? I couldn't breathe in this shirt, damn it."

"You think we can go to the mall after the chaos that you caused?"

Okay, she was snappy at her best.

"Can I change at least? I have wounds, I can't wear this."

"It's not my fault you have fats."

Okay, was she mocking me? Her sarcasm made me raise an eyebrow. I maybe be bruised but I was definitely not fat.

"Hey, what the hell is wrong with you? All I'm asking is a change of shirt considering I'm physically battered, and a comfortable shirt could at least make me feel better, don't act like I'm asking for world peace."

"Really? You want me to refresh your memory of everything you did? Because if I do, you'll feel so much comfortable in that shirt, I can guarantee you that."

"Fine." I said as I took the shirt off. Although my right arm was in pain, I endured it just to make a statement. "There's your shirt, I don't need it."

The pain was excruciating inside and out. I took a deep breath as I sat at the foot of the bed. I heard the blonde whispered, an asshole or something, referring to me. A few second later, she was handing me another shirt.

It was hers.

"Take it or you'll have to stick with just your undershirt." She took the shirt I dropped and wore it instead. It fit her just right. Damn, she definitely had a view of a better one—hers.

I was about to take it when the door opened. It was some blonde girl whom I seemed to have met earlier in my life.

"Oh! I'm sorry—" She said upon seeing us, with me half naked. "I'll just come back later."

"No, we're good, doctor." Quinn spoke from behind. I took her shirt and wore it fast. "We're just about to leave.

I stared at the blonde doctor she was talking to. I swore she looked familiar to me, and it wasn't about Quinn.

"Okay. I'll just wait for you two outside."

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

Although Dr. Marin advised that Santana had rest for at least a whole day, there we were, preparing to leave eighteen hours after we came. We had to rush out of there as soon as possible because more dangers were coming. If it weren't for my mom's surprise, we could be dead first thing tomorrow morning.

"That's Dr. Hannah Marin. She was also a doctor at the nearby hospital, but she recommended that we stay here instead." I said to the Latina.

"I think I saw her somewhere else." She said.

Maybe they hooked up one time in her life.

"Where are we going anyway?"

I stopped. I wasn't sure where I was going or who else could I bother. One thing was certain though, it was time for us to part.

"I'm going to a friend." I sighed. "As for you… you're going home."

I noticed how she was surprised by what I said. Guilt somehow made its presence known inside myself. What can I do? If I take her with me, we'll forever be fugitives to the law, and worse? fugitive to her father.

"What?! I'm not going home, that's not fair."

"You have to. You already caused too much trouble. It's time for you to clean this whole mess." It felt like convincing a kid to eat vegetables rather than candies. Why does it felt that way?

Santana turned her back on me.

"Why did you come back then?" Bitterness was apparent on her voice.

"What?"

"If you were going to leave me anyway, why did you come back to the beach house?" She faced me without actually looking into my eyes, with her arms crossed. "Why did you take me with you?"

I didn't know, I just did it. What was I supposed to say, that out of panic I thought of her and ridiculously drove back and to save her life? How could I explain something I didn't even understand?

"If you didn't take me, the police or the Shadow men could have seen me and saved me." She continued. I tried to think hard for something to say.

I licked my lips and thought harder. "You were in need of immediate medical assistance. I had to take you."

"Couldn't they do that? Even if the police were going to arrest me, they would still take me to the hospital." She took a step closer. "Why did you help me?"

"Because!" Rage was filling up. "Unlike you, I have a heart! It's hard for me to see someone in pain and not do anything about it when I could. I'd feel guilty. I couldn't stand violence, or injustice, or deaths!" I screamed at her. I didn't know why I did. She was just asking for an explanation, but it seemed that our conversations always end up in an argument.

Santana nodded her head a bit. She raised her hands in defeat. "Fine. You really want to get rid of me so much." She seemed hurt, which was impossible because there was actually no reason for her to stay. She already stated her apology and I accepted it. She was already clear on the reason why she disappeared. Why won't she come home?

"What do you want?" She asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You saved my life—twice, actually. As payment for what you did, what do you want?"

"Nothing... I don't want anything."

"You can't say that. I owe you my life. Even if you turn the world upside down, I'm still indebted to you. Nothing can change that unless you let me give you something in return."

I shook my head. She took that part of her father. She had to make a deal out of everything. "You already said you're sorry, that's enough for me. I don't want anything else."

"You want to get rid of me so much. I want to get rid of you, too! So, please, I'm begging you, tell me what you need so I could lift this burden off myself!" That was her turn to scream.

I took a deep breath. The conversation was filling my tear gauge up and making my body shudder in madness. I didn't want anything from her because, like what she said, I wanted to get rid of everything that tied us together.

I wasn't even sure if that's what I wanted.

For now, however, I could settle with that. There was one thing she took from me which I wanted to get back—my life.

"Go home," I said. She was about to burst again but I beat her to it. "…go home and tell your dad I am innocent, that I didn't abduct you or harass you back in Las Vegas."

I took a step forward. I was sure that's something I want.

"Clean my name. I want my life back."

* * *

**Rachel Berry**

I drove back home to get myself together and make a plan on how we could find Santana. I knew her father was already doing their best, but knowing Santana, we should find her before anyone else does. One thing that was bothering me was why she hasn't contacted any of us yet. She knew she could trust us with her life, but why would she keep us out of it? Not unless she really couldn't.

What if she was held prisoner in some dark solitary place? Or in a far away island, or a protected mountain… What if she was already incapacitated? Bejesus, be kind. I wouldn't know what to do.

Lucie.

She definitely had something to do about it. She's avenging herself from the humiliation she got here. She seemed innocent but she's anything but that. I knew there was something about her, I just didn't realize it would be this big.

My phone rang as I entered the house.

"Berry."

It was Brittany. She had a knack for calling at an impeccable timing.

"_Hey Rachel!"_ She was as ecstatic as ever. "_I know you're not expecting any call from me, but I figured it's best that I call you right away_."

My heartbeat raced. "Why? You found Santana? Is there something wrong?"

"_I thought you're looking for her? Anyway, if she's still in Miami, she's in great trouble_."

"I think I know why, B. Lucie and Faith, they were behind it."

"_Actually, that's not what I'm talking about_."

"What do you mean? There's something else?"

"_Yes, it's the Sirens_."

Sirens... It didn't ring a bell and they didn't sound so dangerous

"_Miami is the territory of Sirens, an organization lead by the mortal enemy of Sancho Lopez_." That I haven't heard of. But if that was the case, then San was definitely in grave danger. "_Once they knew Sancho's daughter is in their vicinity, they would take that opportunity to grab her and use it against him."_

"Who is this person? Is it Faith LeHanne?"

"_No, it's not her. She's just a retired freelance assassin who made friends with the Sirens_. _They weren't actually affiliated_."

My blood boiled at the revelation. "So, she knew about it, and Lucie, too. She made an alliance with the enemies to avenge herself, lured Santana into their nest and…"

"_I don't think that's the case, Rachel. Given her status, I don't think Quinn can do something like that_."

"Why not? She's a liar too!"

"_Uhm, Rachel, don't get too emotional. Have you read the file_?"

Emotional? That's… "Of course I did! It says Lucie is nothing but a manipulating liar!"

"_Rachel, think rationally. Why would—_"

"Stop defending her, Britt! Or are you on her side now?"

"_No, Rach, I'm on Santana's side. You have to stop for a moment and think. Why would Santana go there? More so, without telling you?"_

"…because she was forced to?" I didn't know. She was stubborn and that's all I could think about.

"_We both knew Santana. She went there on her own, for reasons we don't know. Nobody can be blamed for that_." I heard her sigh on the other line. "_I know it's hard to admit that sometimes, even if we throw ourselves at her, she just don't need us_."

Sometimes, I forget why Brittany got in the CIA. She was smart in the most wonderful way possible.

"B-but what if she wants help but just couldn't ask for it?"

"_She's a big girl now, Rach. She could take care of herself."_

It was a bitter truth, in fact. Brittany was right. I sounded like a wife to a spouse who cheated on me. I was too emotional to think things through, to rationalize parts of the big picture. I thought I was thinking of Santana but actually, I was thinking of myself. I got selfish.

"_We could try to find her, Rach. But we should not forget that we can never find someone who doesn't want to be found_."

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

We were on our way to the airport and soon enough, I'll be home. Dr. Marin drove us to the airport. Quinn insisted that it was safer that using the bike on our way there. Quinn left it at the clinic as payment for their accommodation to us, to me.

The silence inside the car was deafening. I couldn't help but stare at the doctor as she drove us to the airport. I kept on glancing at the rear mirror, trying to figure out when and where I saw her. I know I did. I couldn't be mistaken on that.

"We're here." She announced.

I wore Quinn's jacket, Dr. Marin's sunglasses and a cap to stay anonymous from the crowd. I didn't understand why Quinn was being too careful about me. She was scared that someone might recognize me, which was possible because my face reached all the ends of the world due to the irritating media.

"Thanks, Dr. Marin." Quinn shook her hand.

"Please, call me Hannah."

I was still wary about her. She was hiding something.

"When I get home, I'll send something for you and your clinic."

Quinn rolled her eyes, while the doctor smiled at me, shaking her head. "It's all been taken care of."

"By that old bike? How much was it worth anyway?"

"Hey, that's priceless!" Quinn interfered. The other blonde laughed at us.

"You two are too cute." Quinn's face turned red as she looked away. I laughed inside. "No, I'll keep the bike at the clinic, so anytime you find yourselves stuck in Miami, you'll have something to use."

I snorted. "See? It wasn't worth anything. I'll just take care of it, I promise."

"No, that's not what I meant." She walked back to her car. "It's already been taken care of."

Quinn and I were both puzzled by what the doctor said.

"It's my pleasure to finally meet you, Quinn." She continued. So she knew her. She's probably one of Faith's comrades. That explained it.

She looked at me before she turned back to the taller blonde. "Likewise, Hannah."

"…and it's nice to see you again, Santana Lopez."

Again? I stared at her more closely, trying to recollect who the blonde was. And then it dawned to me, it wasn't the first time we met, alright.

"Wait, you're the blonde at the prison, aren't you?" She smiled at us. It was her, indeed. "You're a doctor… but you said you were scared by blood."

"I was—I still am. Nevertheless, my fear can't stop me from fulfilling my dreams, can it?"

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

Santana's fame was intimidating. Everyone seemed to know her—everyone, that was, except me.

"We have to move, let's go."

The brunette caught up to me as I entered the airport. She was no longer limping, but I could tell there was still pain on her ankle.

"Geez, why the rush? I'm not running away, okay?"

"There's no time to lose."

I wasn't in a hurry to go back in California and have my life back as this Latina finally confess to her dad what really happened that night in Las Vegas. We had to rush out of Miami because of a different reason I hoped didn't exist.

She laughed behind me. "Seriously, sometimes I think you're a daughter of a syndicate leader."

I froze. I looked over my shoulder and asked her. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, if you're not grumpy, you're snappy. You're so serious, so uptight. My dad would love to have you as his daughter, I'm sure of that."

I let go of the breath I didn't realize I held.

"Sometimes I wonder when the last time you got laid was—not because I fantasize about you, no, no. It's just out of curiosity. I mean, there must be a reason why you—"

I ignored her spontaneous talking. Instead, my attention was diverted to a couple of women standing inside the airport. They both had tattoos on their body, mark of the very group I was trying to avoid—the Sirens.

They were inspecting the whole area, looking for Santana. Ignorance is bliss, indeed. If I didn't know what threat they pose, we'll be walking around here without the fear of getting into trouble. Damn, Faith. Was it a gift or a curse?

A couple more of Sirens entered the airport. We had to get in a flight as soon as possible.

We already got our tickets care of Hannah. All we had to do was board the plane and get out of there fast. But it seemed as though fate was playing a game of war with me. We couldn't just walk there without getting caught. There were Sirens near the boarding area to our flight. They expected her to go that way.

We're screwed. We're outnumbered. I pulled Santana towards the other way. We can't go to California. It's time for a detour.

"Wait, where are we going? Our plane's that way." She asked.

God, she had no idea what was happening.

"We're going to New York." I whispered to her as I pulled her closer.

"What? Why?"

"Keep it down, they might hear us."

"They? What's going on?"

We walked towards the ticket booth. Fortunately, there were vacancies on a flight to New York later tonight. The only problem was how we were going to kill time while we wait. Sirens were roaming around, eager to find Santana.

Why was I protecting her?

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

"Who are these Sirens?"

"You really don't know?" She replied.

I just stared back at her. I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. I have never heard of these Sirens before, ever. Quinn, however, acted like it was a big deal.

"They are enemies of your father." She said. I laughed at the thought.

"Everyone is an enemy of my father, Fabray."

We were sitting at a nearby café as we wait for our six o'clock flight. I wasn't in my best form yet but being with Quinn made me feel better. It was a new experience, something that ignited my boring, luxurious life.

"Yeah, but these guys, they want you dead, or tortured at least."

I still couldn't decipher why she was so worried. I eat death threats for breakfast and twenty three years later, I was still alive.

"You look so hot when you're worried. It's like you want me all to yourself," I couldn't hide the grin on my face. I was serious. She was protecting me, no doubt about that.

"Oh, please. I want to get rid of you, remember?"

"Yeah, so you're taking me to New York instead."

I rested my chin on my hand as I watched her react. Fuck, she was so gorgeous. Her eyelashes batted as she rolled her beautiful hazel eyes, few locks of her blond hair draped on her shoulders, a thin line form by her lips. Those lips… They tasted sadness and grief, hope and love, all at the same time.

Would it be bad that I wished for more?

"You know it's rude to stare, right?" Her voice brought me back to earth. She wasn't looking at me exactly.

"I'm evil. I can do whatever I want." I stared at her more. God, she was so cute, too. "You can stare at me, too. I wouldn't mind."

"Like hell I'd want that."

"Why do you hate me so much?" It was a question I've been longing to ask.

"You really had to ask that?" She replied in a as-a-matter-of-fact kind of attitude.

The answer was obvious indeed. She was mad at what I did to her. "I thought we already settled that? You accepted my apology, right? Why are you still mad?"

No answer. Her expression changed though. I wonder what's going inside her head.

"Had we met at a different time, say in a café like this on a usual Tuesday morning, with all these people around. Will you still hate me?"

She sat straight and looked at me. "That depends on what happens after we leave the café."

I couldn't imagine what could happen if we met in a crowded café on a usual boring Tuesday morning instead of what actually happened. She had always been this strong lady who stands for what she believed in. There was just that one moment when I saw her differently, back at her hotel room. If I didn't have to make a scene, it would have been a lovely conversation. I could have known her better. My life would be different.

If only.

She stood up before I could respond.

"It's almost time. Let's go."

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

I don't think a different place or time was enough for me to fall for Santana Lopez—in a different life, perhaps. But on this one? I doubt it. I was too battered to ever feel love again.

"_Last call for passengers of flight AE405, please proceed to gate 3_."

We were the last on the line in boarding the plane. At least we were on our way. Most of the Sirens were loitering around flights to Long Beach and Los Angeles. Good call.

"You have my ticket, right?" Santana spoke from behind.

I nodded, then I realized I handed it to her back at the café. "Wait, no, I gave it to you at the café, remember? You were asking about the flight number."

It took her a few seconds before she replied.

"I lost it."

"No time for jokes, Santana."

"No kidding. Quinn, I lost it."

I turned to her. She was actually serious about it.

"No way…" Yup, we ran out of luck. We couldn't buy another since the last call was made, and we were the only ones left to board.

"This way madame." The guy inspecting the tickets said.

I hesitated. I could leave her there, but if I did, I would lose the chance to get my life back. Damn it.

"Go," She said.

"What? I'm not leaving you…"

A wide grin curved on her face. Wait, that's not what I meant!

"I'll deal with it. Just play along with me, okay?"

I have a bad feeling about it.

* * *

"Thank you, madam." The guy said. I froze when it was Santana's turn. How was she supposed to make it through?

Santana pulled me closer to her, her left hand around my waist.

She licked her lips sensually before speaking to the guy.

"Ticket please," He said.

She licked her lips before she answered. "I… don't have it." Her voice was calm and sultry.

"I'm sorry madam. You can't board without a ticket."

"Is that so? Well, that's too bad, isn't it, baby?" She was turned to me.

Baby?!

"See, uhm," She peeked at the guy's name tag. "…Joe, me and my girlfriend, we're going to New York, probably watch Wicked,"

Her hand was sensually trailing my arm. She was sure to make eye contact with the guy as she did it. I kept my mouth shut and played along by looking at the floor. My face was burning, I could feel it. But what's worse was I could feel my insides burn, too.

"…have dinner at St. Regis,"

I could feel her breath against my shoulder, my neck. It gave me goose bumps. The actual hell…

"…and have some fun time at a five star hotel, _La Couer_."

Her hand turned to my stomach. She was drawing circles, caressing it. I swallowed. Fuck, I wasn't anticipating something more, no. Definitely no.

"…but since I lost my ticket, it will be all for naught…"

She kissed my neck, my fucking neck! Damn it…

"That would be a shame, right babe? All the reservations…"

I glanced at the guy and he was sweating. He swallowed hard as he wiped his forehead.

"…I'm so sorry, baby."

I thought it was over. The guy was about to give-up, I saw it in his face. But it wasn't. Santana pulled me in closer, her right hand caressing my upper stomach, right under my breast. I could already feel her fingers reached it.

Fuck, we were basically making out in front of the guy! On her part, at least. Damn it!

I couldn't handle it either. I slowly turned my head to her and whispered while I fake a smile.

"You got him, stop it."

She had other plans, however.

"Mm… I know, babe, I'm sorry…" She said. God, her voice was so seductive it didn't help me recover from all the melting that was happening inside me.

"Uh…" The guy started.

The brunette kissed my neck once more, and nipped it, and…

"Mmmmmm." A moan escaped my lips. Fuck!

"O-okay, get in, g-get in." The guy finally said.

Santana licked her lips and smiled in victory. "Thanks, Joe." She winked at him and he… I'll leave that part to him. God, Santana, you are so dead.

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

"Have you tried acting in theater? You were a natural."

If all else fail, I use my charm to get away. In that case, however, Quinn had to take some credit. She was good. I mean, she hated me but she tolerated what I did. I wonder if she was just acting. She was silent the whole time, except for that tip she gave me. She was so close I wasn't able to control myself.

"Don't—" Quinn said as her hand gestured stop to me.

She was staring outside the window ever since we got on the plane. I guess she was mad at me again. I couldn't blame her. It must've felt so good she regretted hating me.

"Hey, I'm sorry if it was too much."

"I said, don't talk to me." She spat.

I sat back and sighed. She got a new reason to hate me, perfect. What can I do? She agreed to play along, and it was just a matter of time so I did what I could. Ugh.

Her silence was making me feel uneasy and guilty about something that actually saved our lives—or mine, at least.

I turned back to her. "Look, I didn't mean to make you feel uncom—"

"Shut up!" She cut me.

"Just listen to me for a second—"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Her face was red in fury. I could feel the rage in her eyes. Everyone was looking at her by that time. That's the least we wanted—attention. Even Quinn was surprised at herself. She turned away from me and looked back outside the window instead.

I smiled at other passengers, even at the flight attendant.

"It's okay, babe. It's just a plane." I said to Quinn while looking at them, assuring that everything was alright.

"Oh, for the love of God." She whispered. I guess she got tired of both listening to me and fighting me, so she put on a headphone instead, sat back, closed her eyes and ignored the world.

If she could see herself, I bet she'll fall in love with herself, too—not saying that I did, okay. I mean, it's impossible that no one had shots for her. She's like an angel walking on earth, for heaven's sake.

And I was the lucky devil who got a taste of her. Her scent still lingered in my nose, the warmth of her body on my skin. She got me high that I lost control too much that tasting her skin became a necessity. I admit, I felt so proud upon seeing that red spot on her neck.

It was as if she was mine.

Although we both knew that was close to never. Why can't I do something right when I was around her? Why was it that every time I try, I fail? Why was it that when we're together, every right becomes wrong, and every wrong becomes right?

"I would've crushed the guy's skull," I uttered. I wasn't talking to Quinn, exactly. I wasn't even sure she could hear me. I slouched and stared at the compartment above as I spoke. "If we were not in a hurry, I would've done it. The way he looked at you… he was drooling. Fuck, he's making me dizzy. The lust in his eyes was disgusting. Fucking pervert. I bet he had a hard on. I hope it got stuck between an elevator door, or crushed as he closed the cab's door. He'll be impotent the next day. If not, I'll find him. I'll kick his balls and make sure that happens."

I wasn't sure why I was ranting. I guess I was really mad at the guy. Yeah, that was what I intended to happen, but seeing it actually does was different. My blood boiled whenever I remember the look on his face. Fucking disgusting.

I sighed as my trail of thought ended. Quinn was silently sleeping, still with the headphones on.

As I closed my eyes, the pain returned—every wound, every cut, every burn, they all ached at once. Exhaustion got the best of me. At least I have an angel beside me.

"I couldn't be more apologetic enough."

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

Nightmare.

Even reality became a nightmare ever since I met Santana Lopez. She never ran out of surprises that would really send you to the edge of your patience. How she maneuvered life with such childish, daring and carefree way of living was an obscurity that I wished never to find out.

How dare she defile me? In front of a man nonetheless! I was humiliated beyond reasonable doubt yet this fiend acted like it was one of her ordinary plays. Once again, Santana Lopez, heir of the underworld used me as one of her puppets and made a perfect getaway act.

Bravo.

I was really mad.

I guess I was just mad.

I wasn't really sleeping when I put the headphone on. I merely closed my eyes and pretended the world was nothing but an endless abyss of darkness. I wanted it to swallow me into its depths and never spit me out.

Then I heard her voice. She was mad and she was pulling me back to reality where everything hurt. How could she put that man in that position and be mad at him after? She was completely out of her mind. Her ways were way below the level of acceptability. I wonder why I still put up with her.

Why?

…because she was willing to break bones to avenge me?

…because all this time, she opted to trust me?

…because she left home and traced me to give her apologies?

…because she reminded me of someone?

No, there's no point in contemplating about this. As soon as we get rid of all the threats, we can go back to California and I will finally be vindicated.

It will be over before I know it.

* * *

The sound of the captain's voice announcing our arrival in New York woke me up. I guess I was tired enough to fall sleep too, much like this devil beside me. She had her head on my shoulder.

With her mouth shut, she actually looked beautiful and gorgeous, and dazzling. She looked like someone who would definitely kill people… by breaking their hearts and nothing else. She's just like… Emily. All these time, part of me thought I was travelling, running away with Em. I guess that's one reason why I was so mad at her. She's a perfect replica of my past and she kept on finding me, haunting me.

I cleared my throat to wake her up, not wanting to call her anything. She didn't budge though, not even a bit. My heart skipped a bit.

"Hey,"

Still no movement. The plane was almost empty, the last few passengers were already on their way out.

"Hey!" I said louder.

One of the flight attendants approached us.

"Everything okay, ma'am?"

I smiled at her. "Oh, yeah, it's just…" I tried to nudge the brunette once more but to no avail. "San?" I touched her face to wake her up but her skin burned me. She was burning.

"Oh, god! San? Wake up!"

She checked her temperature confirmed that she was having a high fever.

"Is she under medication? Anything?"

Yeah, like I could tell her what exactly happened. I thought of an excuse.

"W-we've been an in accident a couple of days ago," I created a scene in my head. "She had some bruises but… s-she said she was really tired…"

The flight attendant was checking Santana closely, her arms, her hand. "I'll get an ambulance right away."

She bit our alibi, thank god.

I stroked Santana's forehead. Damn, why didn't she say anything? Oh, right. I wasn't listening to her. She was sweating, and I couldn't do anything else but held her. I pulled her closer, my arm around her while the other was holding her hand.

"You hang in there,"

* * *

**Santana Lopez**

"_Female, Hispanic, in her early twenties,"_

"_What's her vitals?"_

"_BP 140/90; Heart rate, 120; Temperature, 40 degrees. No apparent bleeding, stomach is tender."_

"_Okay, on my count: one, two, three!" _

"_Who's with her?"_

"_That lady."_

"_I-I'll go with her."_

* * *

A soft touch to my cheek finally woke me up. Heaven's scent woke my senses. There's only one person who had that effect on me.

"Just hang on," Quinn said.

I slowly opened my eyes and found myself inside an ambulance.

"Patient's awake." A guy to my right said. He flashed a light to both of my eyes. Fucking hell?! "Hi, can you hear me?" He asked.

My eyes found Quinn, she was half smiling. Was it real?

"No, but I could hear her." I lifted my left hand, almost pointing to the blonde.

A genuine smile curved on her face. "Yeah, she could hear you, alright."

"That's great. Patient's responding. Can you tell me your name?"

I stared at him, then to Quinn and back at him. I saw how the blonde held her breath. We couldn't simply tell them who I was. We just got off trouble and we can't get in another.

Despite my being in an ambulance, I was already feeling better. I tried to stand up but the medic guy pushed me back.

"No, keep still. We're on our way to the hospital, okay?"

I laughed. I could already feel my vigor back. "There's no need to bring me to a hospital."

Quinn and the medic looked at each other. I sat up and pulled the IV off my arm.

Dang, it hurt.

"See? I'm okay. My temperature's fine. I'm hungry, that's what's up."

"A-are you sure?" It was Quinn. She touched my forehead and her eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah, her temperature's down…"

The medic was looking closely at me. Fuck, was he finally realizing who I was?

"Hey," The blonde interrupted him. "Check her vitals!"

And he did. He, too, was surprised that everything normalized. I grinned at both of them.

"This is… amazing."

"Hey, Brad, what's happening back there?" The driver yelled.

"Uh, Matt, the patient's…" His leaned closer to me. "Hey! I know you!"

I prepared myself for a possible ambush carjack. I saw Quinn was alerted too. If we get caught here, we had to take over the vehicle and… wow, I never imagined an action-packed New York visit.

The medic took his bag and rummaged through it. I slowly reached for the shot of anesthesia nearby. One wrong move and he'll get down, I swear.

"Y-you…" There was a huge smile of his face. "You're Emily Fields, right? My daughter is a huge fan! Matthew! We've got a celebrity on board!"

I crossed my brows and turned to Quinn. She sighed and looked away without saying anything. Was that the same Emily Faith was talking about?

"C-can you sign these? It's for my daughter. Her name's Samantha."

What perfect timing. Just when I thought we're screwed, the world gave us hope. What's happening? Had the world flipped and everything were going against their current?

I swallowed. Whoever that Emily was, I needed her identity for now.

"Yes, she's Emily, but she can't really sign those for now," Quinn spoke. "As you can see, her hand's bruised."

Her expression changed. It was as if she was really talking about someone else. She was a pro at it.

"We were doing a top secret shooting here in New York, and no one can know, okay?"

The medic frowned but nodded. He seemed really disappointed that he couldn't get an autograph.

"How about a picture? Do you have your phone with you?" I intervened.

The guy's face lit up. "R-really? That's great! Here… let me just…"

Quinn leaned in to me and whispered. "What are you doing? You can't be seen."

I winked at her and turned back to the guy.

"Let my… assistant take our photograph." He handed Quinn his smartphone and posed right beside me. "Oh, wait. I still need the sun glasses, I'm sorry. Although I trust that you won't reveal it, I still need to protect myself. Some confidentiality clause I signed in a contract."

"Sure, sure. My daughter will still recognize you anyway."

* * *

"Thank you for everything, Brad—"

"Stanley. Brad Stanley." Thrilled, he shook my hand as we stood outside the ambulance. The other medic, the one behind the wheels, extended his arm and introduced himself.

"I'm Matthew Taylor, and it's a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Fields."

I smiled at both of them.

After taking our picture, Quinn requested to the guy for us to be dropped off at some street in Manhattan. They were worried about the distress call made to the hospital but they said they could deal with it later.

That Emily person must really be something.

"We appreciate your cooperation to Ms. Fields. We hope to see you again some time." Quinn politely bowed her head a bit before them.

"Anytime!"

They waved goodbye as they both entered the ambulance. That Brad guy was still ecstatic. I felt a little bad that we gave him false hope.

* * *

**Quinn Fabray**

In the city that never sleeps, the streets were ever crowded. It was great because we basically disappeared in the middle of them—an ideal cover.

Luck finally found its way towards us when that guy mistaken Santana for… Emily. I couldn't blame him. They were unrelated twins.

"Who's Emily anyway? Faith mentioned her twice before." Santana whispered beside me.

"Just some girl from TV."

It wasn't a lie. Emily was a celebrity that Hollywood made from scratch. After landing a good role on a high rating TV series, she became an instant star. Three years in the making, she was now fulfilling her dreams. She was already high up there in cloud nine where I could only look-up.

I wasn't part of that dream—she made sure I realized that.

And I did.

"Really? So you have a celebrity crush, was that enough for you to point a gun at me?"

She caught me off-guard. No, I couldn't be. "No, I pointed the gun because of what you did to me."

"That's not what it seemed. The way Faith talked about her, it was like something happened between you two."

I stopped on my track and faced her.

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

She raised her hands in defeat. "Yeah, I noticed you don't want to talk about a lot of things, apparently."

I rolled my eyes and continued walking.

"Well, unlike you, I am willing to tell you everything—you just need to ask." I saw beamed at her remark. She sure was fine now.

"I think you'll say it even if I don't."

She laughed. Curiously, that laughed brought a smile to my face. I was starting to get used to having her around. I guess having her around was not totally a bad thing after all.

"Where are we going anyway? You can't let me walk for hours around Manhattan, you know." She asked. I've been here twice in my life and I was pretty sure we're less than a street away from the apartment.

"Plus, I'm starving. Just so you know, I haven't had a proper meal since that beach house exploded."

When I said Faith was my last resort, it was a spur of the moment. She wasn't the only friend I had. In fact, I've got a lot. I just value them too much that I didn't want them to be part of my life's misery.

"Hey, can you hear me? Ah, I get it. You're still emotional." The smugness in her voice was irritating. "Admit it, you were worried that something happened to me, right?"

"Could you quit saying things like that? You have a wild imagination, that's all I'm saying."

I heard her chuckled. Well, yeah, I was worried. But that's because I couldn't lose her, or would kiss my life goodbye for good. I still need her to clean my name.

"It wasn't my imagination and you know it. Just to be clear though, what happened back there was real. I'm never a fan of flying. It makes me sick for some time but it goes away eventually. Never knew what condition that was."

"So, you knew it was going to happen?"

"Not really, but I'm glad it did. We need a way out of that place without the need for a passport, right?"

That we did. We managed to get through Miami since I enjoyed Faith's connections, but here in New York… I've got to check my mom's panting for that.

"You were really a natural in acting, Quinn. I must confess you got me." She said without looking at me that time. "You almost made me feel like you were worried for me."

Yeah, the thing was, I wasn't sure if that was acting or not. Either way, I won't tell her.

We reached the apartment without further conversations. Santana learned how to stop talking for a while. Maybe she was really tired and hungry. Three-storey high, and we finally stood before the door.

It would be quite a reunion.

* * *

**A/N: **It's almost September, but we can't expect any (or just way less) Quinn Fabray on Glee. ;( That's heartbreaking for me... All the more reason to write as much Quinntana as possible.

On a more personal note... yeah, we're recovering from that disaster we've been through. Thanks!

(**SPOILER!**)

Anyway, this train is reaching its station. Tell me what you think.

Thank YOU for the support.

**Reviews** are most definitely loved!

- inksandpapers


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